


Strip For Me

by lallyloo



Series: Strip For Me [1]
Category: Eagle of the Ninth Series - Rosemary Sutcliff, The Eagle | Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-29
Updated: 2012-01-29
Packaged: 2017-10-30 07:26:37
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 23,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/329277
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallyloo/pseuds/lallyloo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Marcus's co-worker buys him a lap dance, Marcus doesn't expect to fall for the dancer..</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strip For Me

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to livejournal in May 2011.

He'd meant to say no to Lutorius. No, he wasn't going to a strip club, and _hell no_ , he wasn't getting a lap dance. It was supposed to be a night of drowning their sorrows in beer. Losing their second-biggest client wasn't something they would've been able to prevent, but the failure still stung, and all Marcus wanted was a long night of drinking and feeling sorry for himself.

So, he's not quite sure how he finds himself in a chair at a strip club, watching helplessly as Lutorius orders up a lap dance for them both.

“Girl,” Lutorius is saying, pointing to himself, “and guy.” He points to Marcus.

Marcus gives him a look of confusion and shakes his head, “Lutorius, what the hell?”

Lutorius rolls his eyes as he laughs, “for fuck sake, Marcus, you think I'm an idiot?” He turns his attention back to the club employee and points to Marcus again. “Like I said, _a guy for him_.”

Marcus doesn't really go out of his way to try to fool anyone, but he was still operating under the delusion that his coworkers weren't aware of his preference for men. He gives Lutorius a look of annoyance, but doesn't put up any further protest. He watches as a woman approaches Lutorius, running her hand through his hair, popping the top two buttons on his shirt, and he's so distracted he barely notices the person approaching him until a male voice is in his ear.

“Am I yours?”

Marcus turns, and his mouth accidentally grazes the man's cheek. His eyes meet blue ones as Esca stares back at him, waiting for an answer.

“Yeah,” Marcus says, slightly stunned. “I think so.”

“Good.” Esca leans closer to Marcus as his hips start swaying. “Anything you had in mind?”

Marcus shakes his head as his eyes travel over Esca's body. He's small, but well-built, with lean muscles over his arms and torso, and light hair on his chest which grows darker as it travels down and disappears into the waistband of his briefs. Marcus's eyes move to a faded blue tattoo across Esca's right arm. His first instinct is to ask what it means, but he realizes how ridiculous it would seem in the moment, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“You come here often?” Esca is speaking against Marcus's ear, asking the usual questions, and Marcus knows he likely isn't interested in the answers.

“No,” Marcus answers honestly. “Never been here before.”

Esca just nods, turning so his back is pressed to Marcus's chest, and he grinds lightly against Marcus's lap. “Your friend bought you ten minutes,” he says, grinding down again before continuing, “The rules are simple: your clothes stay on, you can touch my hips but that's all, sit on your hands if you have to, I'm a dancer not a therapist, and your tips help pay my tuition, so they're always appreciated, got it?”

“Yeah,” Marcus replies. He's intrigued already, listening to Esca's accent curl around each word. “Where are you from?” he asks as Esca grinds against his crotch.

“Britain,” Esca replies and doesn't offer anything more than that. He bends forward, his ass pointed up towards Marcus, and sways his hips from side to side. Marcus stares at the shiny black briefs, and wonders if Esca picked them out himself. He tries to imagine a tattooed Esca walking across a campus, likely the local one, wearing the black briefs under his regular clothes. He figures it's unlikely, that he probably wears something a little less flashy, something cute, maybe stripes.

“You're a student?” he asks, hating himself for being unable to shut up, but also wanting to know more.

“I told ya,” Esca replies, leaning back against Marcus, “I need tips for tuition, so yeah.”

“What're you studying?”

Esca turns around again, facing Marcus, and climbs onto his lap so his knees fall on either side of Marcus's thighs. “Are we having a conversation here, or am I dancing for you?” He pushes his hips down so his ass presses right against Marcus's dick, and Marcus is surprised to find it's already half-hard with interest. When the hell had that happened?

“I don't know,” Marcus says, unable to stop his hips from pressing up a little. “I wanted to know more about you.”

Esca laughs. “That's what they all say.” He winks at Marcus, pressing his ass down again, and Marcus's hands come up to hold his hips. Esca leans in, his breath hot against Marcus's ear, “you've got seven more minutes. You can talk if you want, or you can shut up and enjoy it.”

He suspects he should feel insulted, but Esca is smiling at him so Marcus just smiles back, nodding, “I'll shut up.”

Esca rubs over him, sliding down his body until he's almost kneeling on the floor. He pushes at Marcus's knees, spreading his legs, and Marcus's can feel his cock growing hard beneath the fabric. Esca arches his back, his face coming enticingly close to Marcus's crotch, and he stays there for a moment, his mouth relaxed and open as he smiles up at Marcus. Then he's moving again, his body sliding up over Marcus's chest until he's almost rubbing his clothed dick in Marcus's face. Marcus breathes in sharply, hoping to catch a whiff of Esca's scent as he writhes in front of him. He's disappointed when he can't.

When Esca stands, Marcus loses all concentration, his mind focused on the tiny briefs, and the line of buttocks peeking out at the bottom. Esca's hips sway in front of him, and Marcus wants to slide his fingers under the fabric, to trace the soft skin of Esca's ass, to feel the heat he knows is there. He remembers Esca's warning to sit on his hands if he needs to, but he keeps them clamped on the arms of the chair as he watches Esca move.

Then Esca is turning again, leaning into him, pressing his bare chest against Marcus's clothed one. Marcus is trying to catch his eye, and Esca looks away every time their eyes meet. His eyes are lowered, he's focused on his dancing, and suddenly Marcus wants to kiss him. “What's your name?” Marcus is whispering, wanting to know, but embarrassed that he isn't able to keep quiet.

There's a beat as Esca seems to consider his question, and then he's whispering in Marcus's ear, “Tom.”

The reply pulls Marcus out of his daze for a moment and his brow furrows as he considers Esca's reply. He wasn't sure what name he'd been expecting, but he knows that wasn't it. “Really?” he asks, his voice a little louder this time.

Esca nods, still moving his hips teasingly over Marcus's. “Yeah, why?”

“I wasn't expecting that.” When Esca says nothing, Marcus continues, “it doesn't suit you.”

Esca smiles and shrugs. He turns over, pressing his back against Marcus's chest, the back of his head pressed into Marcus's neck, and it feels more comfortable than it should. “So tell me your name then,” Esca says.

“Marcus,” he replies, because it doesn't even occur to him to lie.

“Marcus,” Esca repeats, leaning up to whisper in his ear. “Stop talking.”

Marcus nods his head, biting his tongue. Then Esca is leaning forward and his ass is on Marcus's bulge, Marcus's cock lined up perfectly with the cleft of Esca's ass, and Esca is grinding down. The gentle rubbing and teasing is over, and Esca's weight is on him, pushing back against Marcus's cock, and the friction of the fabric over his skin is almost too much. Marcus's knuckles go white as he grips the arms of the chair.

Marcus silently curses the thin layer of fabric that covers Esca's ass, and he can almost feel the tight heat there, can imagine his cock sliding in. He wants to thrust up so badly, but he remains locked to the chair, his fingers squeezing the leather, and it takes every ounce of control he has not to come in his pants.

Finally Esca slows and presses himself flush against Marcus again. “Time's up,” he says, and Marcus is breathing too hard to reply.

When Esca stands, Marcus eases a hand off the arm of the chair and shoves his fist in his pocket, grabbing the first bill he feels. He barely glances at it before handing it to Esca, who takes it with a wink and slides it down the side of his briefs.

“Generous,” he says, and Marcus's eyes fall to the outline of Esca's bulge. He's half-hard, and Marcus notices a damp spot in the fabric. He wants to lower his head, yank down those briefs, and take Esca in his mouth, but he just sits there, raising his eyes to meet Esca's.

Esca winks at him again. “See ya, Marcus.”

Then a club employee is at Esca's side, whisking him away, and he's gone.

Marcus shifts in his chair, willing his dick to go down before he searches for Lutorius so he can get the hell out of there.

 

Esca's at the forefront of his mind during the cab ride home, and Marcus barely makes it to the shower before he's got his cock in his hand and he's coming.

*

Marcus manages to wait eight days before he visits the club again. He goes alone this time, not willing to subject himself to the teasing he might face from Lutorius. He hasn't been able to get Esca out of his mind, and he feels like an idiot when he takes a seat near the bar and he sees Esca dancing for someone else.

Of course Esca's dancing for someone else, it's a strip club and it's his job. And yet, an unmistakable pang of jealousy runs through Marcus.

He orders a drink, planning to down something quick and take off, and suddenly Esca turns and his eye catches Marcus's. Esca doesn't miss a beat, swaying his hips for the customer below him, but there's a smirk of recognition on his face.

_Shit._

Marcus turns to face the bar, and takes a few quick sips of his drink before he feels a hand slide along his waist.

“Marcus, right?” The accent gives him away, and Marcus doesn't even have to turn to know it's Esca. But Marcus _does_ turn, because he wants to see him and he's been waiting all fucking week.

“That's right,” he replies, attempting a casual air and failing miserably. Their eyes meet and Marcus wants to smile, because Esca is grinning at him, and he remembered his name, and fuck, Marcus feels like a lovestruck teenager.

“You want another dance?” Esca's leaning into him, whispering in his ear, and Marcus manages to gasp out a _'yes.'_

“Just let me switch these.” Esca points at his briefs. “Don't go anywhere,” he says, and then he's gone.

 

It's only a minute or two before he's back, and he's got Marcus by the hand, leading him to a leather chair. He's switched the previous black briefs for red cotton ones, and Marcus wants to grab the white band around Esca's waist and give it a snap.

Esca pushes him down in the chair, and suddenly his mouth is at Marcus's ear. “Thought you said you weren't a regular.”

“I'm not,” Marcus says, feeling ridiculous. “I just wanted--” He pauses as Esca slides over his chest and back up, his eyes locked on Marcus as he waits for an answer. “I wanted to see you again.”

“That's sweet,” Esca replies, and it would be mocking, but somehow his smile makes it less so. “Have anything in mind this time?”

He's had a million things in mind all week – showing up and kissing Esca, stripping those damned briefs off, touching him, licking him, sucking him, fucking him in the chair, and then taking him home and doing it all again. But Marcus just shakes his head.

“You remember the rules?” Esca asks, and Marcus nods as he raises his hands and clamps them on Esca's hips.

Esca nods back. “Good boy.”

 

Marcus does his best to keep his hands from straying past Esca's hips. When his fingers stray once, up to trail over Esca's tattoo, he yanks them back down to Esca's hips when he receives a quiet reminder of “ _rules, Marcus_.”

Then Esca is shaking his finger teasingly, backing away, and he's suddenly out of reach as his hands move across his own body. Marcus watches him dance, watches Esca's fingers as they rub his chest, ghosting over his nipples, and then his hands move down, over his taut stomach, and Esca's eyes meet Marcus's as he slides a hand over his bulge. Marcus can see his cock, already half-hard, outlined by the red fabric, and he wishes the fingers sliding over it were his own.

“Marcus,” Esca whispers, and Marcus knows he's being teased.

“Please,” Marcus can hear himself saying as his hands lay flat and open on the arms of the chair, fingers clenching and unclenching with want.

Esca takes pity on him, stepping forward so he's within reach again. He presses himself closer to Marcus, sliding up his chest until his mouth is against Marcus's ear again. “You must behave.”

Marcus nods, turning his hands over and gripping the chair, willing himself to keep still.

Esca presses against him, his chest rubbing hard against Marcus's t-shirt, and Marcus is trying his best not to lean up and kiss him, so he starts running his mouth instead, “I still don't know your name.”

“I told you last time,” Esca says quietly as his lips ghosts along Marcus's throat.

“Yeah, Tom.”

Esca nods, his eyes not meeting Marcus's. “That's right.”

Marcus watches him for a moment, waiting for Esca's gaze to meet his own. When it doesn't, he speaks again, “I don't believe you, though.”

Esca smiles and shrugs, same as before, and doesn't offer anything else. Then he's sliding down Marcus's body, over his chest and stomach, and past his crotch as he kneels in front of him. The tips of his fingers touch Marcus's knees, pushing them apart. “Different trousers,” he mutters, more to himself than to Marcus, and Marcus gives him a look of confusion.

“Never mind,” Esca says, pushing Marcus's legs closed. He stands, and there's a slight flicker in his eye, and suddenly Marcus realizes Esca's given something away -- he remembers what Marcus was wearing during their first encounter.

Marcus is unable to bite back his grin, “I came straight from work last time.”

“Did you?” Esca says simply, and the facade is back. He places his hands on either side of Marcus's, swaying his hips as he leans over him.

“Yeah,” Marcus replies, staring up at Esca, “would you like to know where I work?”

“Not really.” It's more teasing than rude, and Esca's smiling. “But I'm sure you're going to tell me.”

Marcus laughs. “Nahh, maybe I should keep a few secrets too.”

“Whatever pleases you.. Now,” he leans into Marcus suddenly, and Marcus's lips part as if Esca is going to kiss him, but he stop just short of contact, “will you be quiet and let me dance for you?”

“Yeah,” Marcus nods and licks his lips, “I'll try.”

“Good,” Esca replies, pulling back until he's standing again. “Because I'm wearing these ones specifically for you.” He points to the red briefs, and Marcus is nodding and raising his hands to grasp Esca's hips.

“I like them,” Marcus whispers, and then he's silent as Esca starts moving again.

 

As Esca bends over in front of him again, Marcus cock presses against unforgiving denim, and he curses his decision to wear jeans. He wishes he was in something less constricting, his own briefs, or nothing.

Esca dances for him and he watches the soft round skin peeking out of the bottom of Esca's briefs, and he wants to pull him onto his lap, tug aside the red fabric, and slide his fingers in, slide his cock in, and make Esca come.

He lets his hands come up again, grabbing Esca's hips, because he knows he's allowed, and he gives a gentle tug. Esca turns, still moving his hips, but nodding because he knows Marcus wants more, needs touch and friction.

“Bossy,” he says, but he's climbing up onto the chair, straddling Marcus's lap, and Marcus wants to push him down and thrust up into him.

“Please,” Marcus pants, as he squeezes Esca's hips. “I want you to--”

And before he can finish Esca presses his ass down once, hard, rubbing against Marcus's dick. “Yes,” Marcus is saying, nodding at Esca and licking his lips, and he knows he must look ridiculous but Esca is staring back at him, smiling, and it's okay. “Please,” Marcus begs, “more,” and his breath coming quickly as he waits to see if Esca will comply.

Esca pushes his ass out, and twists his hips, grinding himself down on Marcus, and Marcus lets out a breath. He keeps his hands locked on Esca's hips as they grind down on him, and he's trying to not let his fingers wander, but they do. His thumbs start tracing the line of Esca's hips, where they disappear below his waistband, and he wants to follow the lines with his fingers, into Esca's briefs and down to his cock.

He looks up at Esca, wanting to see if the touch is okay, or if he should stop, and Esca's staring back at him. His lips are parted, his smile faded, and he seems to be considering Marcus, not quite sure what to make of him.

“Is this okay?” Marcus is whispering, and Esca gives him a slight nod. “I want to touch you,” he's talking again, and he doesn't even try to stop himself. “I've been thinking about you for days. All week. I wanted to see you again.”

Esca's hands are around his neck, holding tight, as he uses Marcus for leverage, pulling his hips up with a twist and grinding down again. “You're seeing me,” Esca says, thrusting his hips forward, the red briefs pushing against hard denim.

“Tell me your name,” Marcus whispers, his eyes pleading with Esca's, and Esca looks away, his focus back to the movement of his dance, each twist and thrust carefully thought out.

Then he's pushing down again, riding Marcus so hard the friction is enough to distract Marcus from his chatter, and Marcus has to let go of Esca and grip the chair to keep himself from coming. He's silent and panting open-mouthed as he watches Esca ride his lap, and he only manages to peel his eyes away from the outline of Esca's cock because he wants to watch Esca's face as he moves. He's quiet and he's thinking, and Marcus can tell he's trying to avoid his gaze.

“You don't have to tell me,” Marcus manages to say, as his time runs out and Esca begins to slow. “I just want to see you again.”

Esca leans forward, his mouth almost touching Marcus's. “You know where to find me.”

And then he's standing, and then he's gone.

*

Marcus manages to wait four days. It's not as impressive as the eight days he waited before, but he figures it's better than listening to his dick and showing up the very next night.

He takes a seat at the bar and glances across the crowd. There are several dancers and numerous patrons, and Marcus scans each leather chair, looking for Esca, but he doesn't spot him. Feeling the disappointment settle over him, Marcus orders a drink, downs it, and is just in the process of ordering another when he finally spots Esca.

He's on a small raised platform in the corner, and he's dancing. His face is lowered, and Marcus can guess he's focused on his moves and trying his best to drown out the noise of the room. The music continues, and Marcus watches him dance. Esca sways his hips, shakes his head, all in time to the music. His hands trail over his body, fingers touching the peaks of his nipples before trailing over the light hair on his torso, and down down down to the waistband of his briefs –blue tonight, and cut longer than before– and Marcus smiles to himself when he realizes they match Esca's tattoo. Then Esca is arching his back, and his hands move to his knees, and he's jutting his ass out, and he's turning, and fuck, Marcus has to look away and take another drink.

He glances back just as the song is ending, and Esca finally looks up to skim the crowd and his gaze locks on Marcus. Feeling silly, Marcus looks at the floor for a second before glancing back up, and the small stage is suddenly empty and Esca is gone. Panic prickles over him for a second before Esca appears to his left, sliding through the crowd, and is suddenly at his side. He's smiling. “Marcus.”

“Hi,” Marcus musters, meeting Esca's smile with his own.

“Back already?” Esca leans against Marcus's side as people push their way toward the bar, trying to take up as little space as possible, and Marcus wants to put his arm around Esca's waist and keep him there.

“Yeah,” he replies, keeping his hands on his lap. “I didn't get to tip you last time. You left before I could.”

“I know.” Esca smiles teasingly, and seems to be waiting for Marcus to speak.

“I thought you needed your tips.”

Esca nods. “I do. I just figured if you were as sweet and noble as you seem to be, you'd remember that and you'd be back. And if you weren't..” he pauses for a second, looking over Marcus's face, considering. “Well, then I'd know.”

Marcus glances at the floor before looking back up at Esca, and they stare at each other for a moment. “So that was a test?”

“I guess it was.” Esca's still smiling as he presses his mouth to Marcus's ear. “Now do you want me to dance for you?”

Marcus is nodding and Esca reaches for his hands, pulling him upright. “Can we go somewhere else?” Marcus can hear himself speaking, but his mind is zoned in on Esca and his little blue shorts.

“A private room?” Esca is saying, and the next few minutes are a blur as Esca pulls him through the club and into a dark room near the back. There's a click as the door is locked, and then Marcus is pushed into a chair, and the lights seem to grow bright and then dim a little, and finally Esca is leaning over him. “Anything in mind?”

“I wanna kiss you,” Marcus says, his eyes locked on Esca mouth.

Esca moves in closer, but stops just short of Marcus's lips, and shakes his head. “I don't kiss.” He reaches down to take Marcus's hands and place them on his hips, and Marcus smooths his thumbs over the thin blue fabric. “But you can touch me,” Esca is saying, “if I give you permission.” He grabs Marcus's chin and tilts his head so their eyes meet. “Got it?”

“Yeah,” Marcus whispers, “I wanna touch you.”

Esca smiles, thrusting forward a little. “You have to ask permission.”

“Can I touch you?”

Marcus is in a daze and Esca is laughing, and he grabs one of Marcus's hands and places it on his chest, up near his left nipple. “You have to be more specific,” he says, “but we'll start here, and if you want to move somewhere else you have to ask first, yeah?”

“Okay.” Marcus thumbs over Esca's nipple and a soft huff of air escapes Esca's mouth before he starts moving again.

He's not sure how much time passes, he only knows Esca is dancing, and teasing, and bending over in front of him, and pushing his legs apart, and doing all the moves Marcus has committed to memory from before, and finally he grabs Esca's hips and puts a stop to the dancing for a moment as he pulls Esca to him.

“I need you on me,” he says, looking up at Esca. “I want you closer.”

Esca reaches a hand up, sliding his fingers through Marcus's hair, and Marcus leans into the touch.

“Please.”

Esca nods then, seemingly rendered silent, and his hand slides down the back of Marcus's neck as he starts to move again. He turns, hips still swaying, and sits back until his ass is on Marcus's lap. He pushes against him a few times, and Marcus lets himself thrust up a little, lazily. “Can I?” he remembers to ask, and Esca nods and pushes back to meet him.

Then his hands are moving, touching Esca's hips, “Can I?” and sliding up along his torso, “Can I?” and rubbing over his nipples, “Can I?” until Esca is arching over him, shoulder blades pressed hard against Marcus's chest as his hips push up against the air. “Stop asking,” Esca laughs. “You have permission for now, I'll let you know when you don't.”

Esca reaches up to grab the back of Marcus's neck as Marcus rubs Esca's nipples between his big fingers, and he watches Esca arch in front of him, his chest pushed up to meet Marcus's touch. A hand smooths over Esca's tattoo, fingering the blue ink there, and then his hands are moving down, further, wanting to touch and feel and pull Esca out of his shorts and jerk him until he comes all over the floor, and his fingers are just about to slide under the fabric when Esca's hand moves to clamp over his. “Not there,” he says, and then he stands, touching himself, squeezing his dick through the fabric as if he's trying to will it to go down, and then he climbs up on Marcus's lap. “Not there” he says again, pushing his ass against Marcus's cock.

Then Esca is riding him again, little blue shorts pressed against Marcus's pants, and he's glad he remembered to wear different ones tonight because he can feel Esca's heat through the fabric. Esca's hips are moving, same as before, pushing down against Marcus, and he knows it's the same old trick but he's helpless to it. His hands reach for Esca again, thumbing over his hips and belly and chest as they move together in the chair, and Marcus is thrusting up as Esca leans into him and meets every push with a twist of his hips.

“Tell me your name,” Marcus is pleading, and Esca lets out a soft laugh as he shakes his head.

“I want to see you again,” Marcus pants out, his mouth brushing the side of Esca's face, and Esca turns to him, his lips teasingly close to Marcus's, and Marcus's mouth falls open, and he wants to kiss him. “I want to see you all the time. I want to kiss you, and touch you, and fuck you” And then he can't stop himself, he starts saying everything, “I really want to fuck you. I jerk myself and think of you. I think of you when I'm coming.”

“You think of me when you touch yourself?”

“Yeah,” Marcus says, and he knows his face is red with embarrassment but he wants to tell Esca everything.

“Tell me.” Esca's smiling then, grinding down, his ass pressed to Marcus's cock, and the friction is too much, and then Esca speaks. “Tell me how often you touch yourself.” And Marcus manages to pant out, “all the time,” before he's losing it, and he's coming, and Esca pauses over him, pressing his ass down once more and holding it there, waiting until the warm pulsing of Marcus's cock stops.

Marcus is panting, trying to catch his breath, and Esca is leaning up against him. “I almost hate to do this,” his breath is soft against Marcus's cheek as he speaks, “but I'm still working here.”

“Yeah,” Marcus manages to pant out. “Of course.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a few bills, pushing them into Esca's hand. “For tonight and for last time.”

Esca sits up and slides the money down the side of his shorts without even looking at it, instead he's watching Marcus.

“I want to see you again,” Marcus says, and Esca smiles at him.

“You know where I am.”

“No.” Marcus is shaking his head, and his hands knead Esca's thighs. “I mean, somewhere else. Not here. Just you and me.” He watches Esca for a second, considering keeping the next bit to himself, and then whispers, “like a date.”

“A date?” Esca is laughing at him, and Marcus slumps back in the chair, feeling defeated. “I don't date customers,” Esca says, and he waits, as he always does, wanting to see what Marcus will say next.

“I'm not a customer,” Marcus says quickly. “I'd never even been here until that first night, and I only come back because you're here.”

Esca just smiles and runs his hand through Marcus's hair.

“I'm not a customer,” Marcus says again, and he gives Esca a hopeful smile. “I”ll never come here again, I swear.”

Esca considers him for another moment. “I have to get back to work” he says, and then he's sliding off Marcus's lap.

Marcus sits in the chair, silent, as he watches Esca adjust his shorts and head for the door. He unlocks it with a click, and is just about to turn the knob when he glances back at Marcus.

“Esca.”

Confused, Marcus stares at him. “What?”

“My name?” Esca says quietly. “It's Esca.”

Then the door opens and he's gone.

*

Marcus doesn't ask where they're going for coffee, he never does. Marcus's uncle knows the ins and outs of the city and he's picky about his food and drink, which is how Marcus finds himself standing in a long line at a tiny hole-in-the-wall coffee shop.

“Best Reuben in town,” his uncle is saying, and Marcus nods absentmindedly as he stares up at the order board.

As his uncle continues talking, Marcus settles on the clubhouse and moves his gaze over the crowd of people. The line is moving quickly, and they're getting closer to the counter when Marcus sees a flash of skin, and blue, and for a split second his stomach does a flip-flop. Then he's berating himself, glancing at the floor and to his uncle, and trying to focus on the conversation. He hasn't seen Esca in nearly two weeks, not since the night he promised he wouldn't go back to the club, and his mind and his dick are driving him mad. He thinks of Esca when he's at work, his dick growing hard under his desk, and thinks about him after work, when he's unbuttoning his pants and touching himself before he's barely through his front door. In the evenings he finds himself wondering if Esca's working that night, and who he's dancing for, and he wonders if Esca thinks about him at all. Likely not.

And now, apparently, he's starting to think he's seeing Esca everywhere.

Marcus attempts to listen as his uncle discusses poker or bird-watching, or some other interest of his which Marcus only half-hears, until there's only one person between them and the counter, and Marcus finally chances another glance up.

He freezes.

It's Esca. He's fully-dressed and pacing, handing off cappuccinos, and steaming milk, and tossing spoons in a sink, and Marcus's uncle is in the middle of speaking when Marcus blurts out “ _Esca_.” It's just above a whisper, not enough to attract Esca's attention, but his uncle falls silent as he looks curiously at Marcus and then glances towards the counter.

“Friend of yours?” his uncle asks when he notices Esca, and his focus moves back to Marcus.

“Yea--,” Marcus begins. “Sort of. I mean, no, not exactly.”

“Enemy?”

Marcus quickly shoots down the suggestion and his uncle is looking at him knowingly, and then suddenly the line is moving again, and his uncle takes a step towards the counter just as Esca turns to hear the next order, and Marcus can already feel the embarrassment creeping down his spine. The girl at the register is asking for their order, and Marcus can't seem to move his feet, and his uncle is suddenly speaking again, “ _Esca_ ,” he says, stressing the name, “good to meet you,” and Esca gives him a look of amused confusion before he notices Marcus standing behind him.

“Marcus,” Esca says aloud, and he seems surprised and confused and a little suspicious.

The two of them are looking at Marcus, who hasn't moved from his spot in line, and then his uncle shakes his head and turns his attention back to Esca. “You'll have to excuse Marcus. My nephew seems to have lost the use of his legs.”

_Damn it._

“It's fine,” Esca replies, and he's smiling, so Marcus steps forward then, giving Esca an apologetic look and watching helplessly as his uncle continues.

“Ahh, a Britain,” he's saying, and Esca nods. “I've been there, beautiful place. What part of Britain are you from?”

Esca gives a polite but vague answer of “the north” and Marcus's uncle goes off on a spiel about varying British accents and the transit system and the weather while Marcus places their order with the cashier.

“You should join us for lunch, Esca.”

“That could be very... enlightening,” Esca says, briefly glancing at Marcus, “but unfortunately I'm working right now.”

“Unfortunate, indeed,” his uncle replies. He turns to look at Marcus, who breaks his gaze from Esca to meet his uncle's eye, and then leans across the counter. “Tell me, Esca, are you a fan of good steak and great wine?”

“I suppose I am.”

“Excellent,” his uncle says. “Excellent. Now, listen, Marcus comes to my villa for dinner every other Tuesday. I'm going to insist that he bring you one of these evenings.”

“That's very kind of you,” Esca replies, avoiding Marcus's gaze.

“Promise me you'll remind him, though. He's stubborn and doesn't like to take my advice”

“Uncle,” Marcus interrupts, _I'm right here_.”

His uncle turns to him, amused. “Ahh, Marcus, so you are. You've been standing there tongue-tied for so long I nearly forgot about you.” He gives Marcus a wink. “Esca, pleasure to meet you. I'd love to stay and chat, but I'm an old man and I need to find a chair.”

“You're not that old,” Marcus says to the back of his head as he disappears into the crowd of patrons. Then he slowly turns back to the counter to find Esca staring at him in mild amusement. “Sorry about that.”

“Nah, don't worry about it,” Esca shakes his head, “I've got a few eccentric aunties, I'm used to it.”

They stare at each other for a moment, and Esca seems to be waiting, as always.

“So, you work here?” Marcus says, and he immediately feels like an idiot because Esca is standing behind the counter, and _of course_ he works there. “I mean, you work here _too_?”

Esca smiles and nods, “yeah, and I should be getting back to it.”

“Right, sorry.” Marcus distracts himself by reaching for napkins and a take-out menu which he doesn't need because he's already ordered, and shit, _way to be suave, Marcus._

“But I'm off at six,” he hears Esca say, and his head whips up.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Can I.. do you want..” Marcus is rambling, and Esca's smiling as he watches him stumble over his words. “I mean, is there somewhere I can pick you up?”

“Here's fine,” Esca says quietly. “Six o'clock?”

“Six o'clock,” Marcus replies, grinning. “I'll be here.”

“See you then.”

Esca turns away from the counter and returns to his work, and Marcus cuts through the crowd to find his uncle. He's still grinning when he sits down.

“Ahh, Marcus, there you are. Something peak your interest at the counter?”

His uncle is giving him a knowing look and Marcus is too damn happy to even try to hide his smile.

*

Marcus had been back and forth between the mirror and his closet at least ten times. He'd had on dress pants, jeans, t-shirts, button downs, sweaters, and he's pretty sure at some point he'd tried out a scarf.

He settles on jeans, a white button down, and a black tie, and is standing in front of the mirror again. A tie on a first date? He isn't sure, and then suddenly mild panic hits him. It _is_ a date, isn't it? Esca hadn't actually said, and Marcus had just assumed, and oh shit, maybe it isn't a date.

Marcus loosens the tie and pulls it over his head, and then looks at himself again. He makes a face and undoes the top button of his shirt. _Good._ He looks nice enough for a date, but casual enough that he can laugh it off if Esca just wants to hang out. He checks his hair again, brushes his teeth for the third time, and throws on his gray pea coat before heading out the door.

 

He somehow underestimates the time between his apartment and the coffee shop, and ends up arriving fifteen minutes late to find Esca sitting on a bench outside.

“Sorry,” he calls as he jogs up and takes a seat next to Esca.

“Almost thought you weren't coming.”

“No no no,” Marcus shakes his head. “Just took longer than I thought. I was afraid you'd be gone.”

“Nah,” Esca thumbs at Marcus's collar. “You look nice,” he says, and then points to his own jeans and t-shirt, “wish I had something to wear other than these.”

“You look great,” Marcus replies, and Esca is smiling at him, and Marcus can't help but smile back.

“You want to walk?”

“Yeah.” Walk. Sure, Marcus can do that.

They head up the street, and Marcus really has no idea where they're going, and he decides he doesn't really care because he's walking beside Esca, and _maybe_ they're on a date, and shit, he really is a lovestruck teenager. Marcus watches Esca out of the corner of his eye. He's shorter than Marcus, and his hair is sticking up a bit, and there's stubble on his face, and Marcus's gaze moves over his clothes again – the black shirt, and the jacket that covers his body and his tattoo, and the jeans that cover the bare skin Marcus has grown accustomed to seeing, and Marcus wonders what color of briefs Esca is wearing.

“Haven't seen you at the club lately,” Esca says, as if he'd been reading Marcus's mind.

“I promised you I wouldn't go back.”

“That you did.”

“So I haven't been back.”

“I noticed.”

Marcus grins, watching Esca for a moment as they walk. “Did you miss me?”

A smile breaks over Esca's face, and he glances at Marcus before turning his attention back to the sidewalk. “I wouldn't say _missed_.”

Marcus nudges Esca with his elbow, “you did, though, right?”

“It's possible,” Esca replies, as he turns down a side street.

Marcus follows, unable to wipe the ridiculous grin off his face. “So, is this a date then?”

Esca stops and turns to look at him. “Isn't it?

“I thought it was,” Marcus says cautiously, and his grin begins to wane, “but then I thought maybe I was wrong. I mean, I did ask you before--”

“Marcus,” Esca interrupts, “it's a date.”

Marcus's smile returns and he steps a little closer to Esca, wanting to kiss him or hold his hand or something, but he just follows as Esca starts walking again.

“So where are we going?”

*

Turns out neither one had actually given much thought as to _where_ they should have their first date, and Esca eventually leads them to a fish  & chip shop by the water. They take their orders to go, and end up sitting cross-legged on the grass, watching the boats go by.

“I've never been down here before,” Marcus says between bites. “It's nice.”

Esca nods, and watches Marcus while they eat. It unnerves Marcus, the way Esca watches him, like he's trying to read Marcus or he's waiting for something. Marcus is afraid he's going to say something wrong, so he keeps his mouth shut even though he wants to ask Esca everything and find out everything about him. He can't explain it, and he's not sure why he wants to know so badly, so he simply watches Esca watching him.

They finish their food and make awkward conversation about the weather and the different boats, until finally Esca pauses and gives him a smirk. “So this is weird.”

Marcus manages to stave off a frown. “What's weird?”

“This,” Esca says, pointing between himself and Marcus.

“What's so weird about it?” Marcus asks the question even though he already knows the answer. He wants to cringe as he waits for Esca's reply, because he's not sure he wants to hear it, and he doesn't want it to mean Esca's given him a shot and he's already changed his mind.

“You know,” Esca replies. “Dating a customer.”

“But I'm _not_ a customer,” Marcus says quickly.

“You _were_ a customer,” Esca corrects as he trails his fingers through the grass. “And we're sitting here making small talk like strangers when you've already seen me half-naked, and I rode your lap and made you come in your trousers.”

“You didn't _make_ me come in my pants.”

Esca grins. “Yeah, I did.”

Marcus tries to frown, but he can't because he knows Esca is teasing and maybe that means he's not entirely changing his mind.

“So what do we do?” Marcus asks cautiously.

“I don't know,” Esca shrugs, “You want ice cream?”

Marcus stares at him wide-eyed, and Esca laughs and says he's unsurprised when Marcus asks for vanilla. Then Esca hops to his feet and takes off over a knoll.

Marcus spends the next several minutes glancing between the water and the direction Esca disappeared, and lets out a tiny sigh of relief when Esca appears over the small hill, carrying two ice cream cones. He hands the vanilla to Marcus, and keeps the chocolate for himself.

While they eat their ice cream, Marcus asks Esca about school and dancing, and the conversation begins to flow. He finds out that Esca is studying history, and he studied dance when he was younger but gave it up and, when Marcus asks why, he doesn't explain. Esca asks Marcus about his job, but Marcus gives up with a laugh when Esca's eyes seem to glaze over. He finds out that Esca works two jobs to pay for school because his parent's had very little money, and when Marcus asks why he left Britain Esca changes the subject. So Marcus tells him about baseball and his favorite music and the last concert he attended, and before they know it the sun is setting.

“Do you live near here?” Marcus asks. “Can I walk you home?”

Esca considers it for a moment. “You can walk me to the bus stop, if you'd like.”

“I have my car, I could give you a ride.”

Esca doesn't respond, and Marcus isn't quite sure if he's overstepped some sort of invisible boundary, so he straightens his legs and falls back onto the grass. “Or we could just stay here.”

Esca doesn't reply but he lies down beside Marcus, propping himself up on his elbows, and Marcus can't stop staring at him. He looks mysterious and sweet and fuckable, and Marcus's can't help the twitch in his cock as his gaze moves over the black t-shirt and the worn denim. He knows what's underneath, he can see it in his head, the tattoo, the trail of hair on Esca's torso, the lines of his hips, the outline of his cock against his briefs, and the teasing glimpse of skin every time he danced and pushed his ass towards Marcus. Marcus is half-hard just remembering. “It's interesting to see you in clothes.”

“Interesting?”

Marcus shrugs. “I don't know, I'm used to seeing you almost naked. So clothes are kind of exciting.”

Esca grins at him. “Marcus, you're a pervert.”

Marcus grins back, and waits a moment or two before he replies, “I just really like you.”

Esca's watching him, and the sun's going down, and Marcus isn't quite sure whether to lean up and kiss him, or touch him, or continue what he's doing and just stare back like a big dopey puppy. He's just about to change the subject, and ask Esca if he'd like a walk to the bus stop, and manages to get out “do you--” when Esca leans down and kisses him.

Marcus is half stunned because Esca's lips are finally on his, and they're not as soft as Marcus was expecting, but they're sweet and cold from the ice cream and it's better than he imagined. Esca's fingers touch his hair and his tongue slides against Marcus's lips for a second before he's pulling away. Marcus lets out a quiet moan at the separation, and he's glad for the growing darkness when he feels his face grow red with embarrassment.

“Marcus,” Esca says, staring at him for a moment, considering him, “I'm not going to fuck you.”

Marcus's lips part, and he's trying to think of a reply as Esca continues, “I mean, I don't want you to think I'm going to fuck you just because I danced for you.”

“No, yeah, I don't,” Marcus is fumbling for words, “I don't think that.”

“Because I don't do this. I don't just go out with every cute guy who comes into the club and tells me he likes me.”

“I didn't think that.”

“I know, I just need to say it.”

Marcus nods, meeting Esca's eye and they stare at each other for a moment before Marcus replies, “so you think I'm cute.”

Esca laughs. “Marcus, shut up.”

Then Marcus is laughing too, and leaning up to kiss him again.

 

He walks Esca to the bus stop, and they exchange numbers, and then the bus pulls up and Esca is climbing the stairs and he's gone.

Marcus watches the bus round the corner before he pulls out his phone and dials Esca's number.

Esca picks up on the third ring, “Marcus?”

“Can I see you again tomorrow?”

Esca laughs. “I'm at the club tomorrow.”

“The next night?”

“The club again.”

Marcus frowns, and he's glad Esca can't see it. “Next night?”

“Marcus, I can't. Two jobs, remember?”

“Oh, right.” There's a pause, and Marcus can hear the engine of the bus on Esca's end. They're both waiting. “Well, are you free next Tuesday?”

“I am.”

“Do you want to come with me to my uncle's?”

Esca laughs again. “Based on my conversation with him, I think I have to.”

Marcus is grinning, and feeling very hopeful. “But do you want to?”

“Yeah.”

*

Marcus manages to restrain himself from calling or texting Esca for the next several days. He finally cracks five days after their date. He's been thinking about Esca all day, and his hand is on his cock before the door to his apartment is clicking shut, and then he's down on his knees, whispering Esca's name as he comes.

He's typing and sending the text before he really has time to think it through.

[ _Hi. Was just thinking about you._ ]

He hits send and cringes. Will Esca take it the wrong way? Will he know what Marcus meant? That he was thinking about Esca all day? Or that he was thinking about Esca as he jerked himself? Because, either way, he'd be right.

When Marcus doesn't receive a reply, he considers sending a second text. But maybe Esca is ignoring him.

Marcus glances at the clock. _6:37pm_. If Esca's at the club it could be hours before he even sees the text or responds.

Marcus doesn't text Esca again, but he carries his phone around his apartment for the rest of the evening. Hours go by and he receives no reply, and Marcus isn't sure if that means Esca is busy or Esca's ignoring him, and he tries to avoid thinking about the latter. When he heads to bed, he keeps the phone beside his pillow as he drifts off.

 

A ding and a vibrating buzz jolt Marcus awake, and he glances at the clock. _1:54am_.

Marcus grabs his phone and shields his eyes against the sudden harsh light in the darkness of his room.

[ _Me too. See you Tuesday._ ]

Marcus isn't conscious enough to try to analyze the meaning of Esca's text, so he simply falls back to sleep with a smile on his face and the phone gripped tightly in his hand.

*

They text again on Tuesday to figure out where Marcus will pick Esca up before they head to the villa, settling on a bus stop on the outskirts of the city. Marcus spends the ten minute drive attempting to warn Esca about every possible embarrassing thing his uncle is likely to do, and questions he might ask.

“He means well,” Marcus explains, “but he has a tendency to just say whatever he's thinking, and he'll ask you a million questions because he wants to know everything.”

Esca glances at him out of the corner of his eye. “So that runs in your family, then?”

Marcus laughs as he turns the wheel and heads up a long narrow driveway.

 

When they're standing at the door, Marcus finally gets a proper look at Esca and he doesn't try to hide his gaze at it moves over Esca's body. Esca is looking more formal than Marcus has ever seen him –dark jeans, a dress shirt, and a light blue sweater– his hair is lightly slicked back, and he's clean-shaven.

“You look really good,” he says, and Esca smirks up at him.

“Dressed to impress,” he replies, winking as he swings the bottle of wine he's holding in his hand.

“For my uncle?”

“He did say he liked wine, right?” Esca glances at the bottle and holds it up for Marcus to see. “Vintage.”

Marcus shakes his head. “I don't really know what that means.”

“Neither do I.” Esca laughs and shrugs, and then there's a pause before he changes the subject. “Sorry for texting you so late the other night. I realized after that you probably had to work in the morning.”

“Nah, don't worry about it.” Marcus smiles and tries to play it cool, but then he hears his traitorous voice asking, “But did you mean--”

Then he's interrupted because the door is opening and suddenly Stephanos is rushing them inside and leading them to the dining room.

Esca leans closer to Marcus as they walk, and whispers, “partner?”

Marcus shakes his head. “Butler.”

 

“Ahh, you've finally made it.” Marcus's uncle walks across the room, smiling, and extends his hand to shake Esca's. “Esca, welcome, I see Marcus heeded my suggestion.”

“He did,” Esca nods.

“I'm not surprised,” his uncle continues. “I couldn't wipe the smile off his face after we spoke to you the other day. Or should I say, after you and I conversed and Marcus stood--”

“Is dinner ready?” Marcus interrupts, and Esca is laughing as they take their seats at the end of a long dining table.

“Sit together, sit together,” his uncle encourages when Marcus and Esca move to sit across from each other. “It's easier than craning my neck back and forth through the entire meal.” He winks at Marcus, and Esca pretends not to notice as he hands the bottle of wine to Marcus's uncle.

“Ahh, a gift!” his uncle says, examining the bottle. “We'll have this with our dinner. Tell me, Esca, how do you like your steak?”

 

The dinner is less awkward than Marcus imagined, but he still finds himself attempting to distract his uncle several times, and Marcus is unable to stop him when he stands suddenly and heads to the library to retrieve an old photo album.

“Uncle, don't,” Marcus is saying, craning his neck to watch his uncle disappear through the doorway. He's so distracted that he barely notices Esca speaking to him until Esca's hand is on his thigh. He grips it tight, and Marcus pauses to glance down.

“It's fine,” Esca says, easing his grip and rubbing his palm against Marcus's leg, soothing him. “I don't mind.”

“Okay,” Marcus replies, and he swallows, and he waits, and Esca's hand stays on his leg, and suddenly he doesn't care if his uncle shows Esca every single embarrassing photo in the house.

 

It turns out his uncle wasn't looking to embarrass him, and they spend the next ten minutes going through photos from one of his uncle's trips to Britain. Esca recognizes several of the major cities and landmarks, and while the two of them get into a conversation about a famous cathedral, Marcus can't stop glancing down at Esca's hand on his thigh. It's hidden under the table, and the placement of his hand and arm are barely noticeable, so Marcus doubts his uncle is aware –he's sure his uncle would be smiling and nodding knowingly if he'd noticed– and Marcus watches them both carefully, listening to the conversation for a moment, before he casually moves his arm and slides his hand on top of Esca's.

Esca's doesn't pause in his conversation, though Marcus is sure he notices the edges of his mouth curling into a hint of a smile, so Marcus slips his fingers between Esca's and waits.

“Yes, I've been there,” Esca's saying and he covertly turns his hand over so his palm meets Marcus's, and Marcus can feel his cock begin to stiffen as Esca's fingers slide against his own. It's simple and it's erotic, and Marcus is smiling to himself because he's holding Esca's hand and it's a secret between them, and he's wondering if it's having the same effect on Esca as it's having on him.

When Esca lifts his thumb and slides it over Marcus's, running it gently over his knuckle and and nail and back down the other side, Marcus can feel himself letting out a small panting breath, and he hopes his uncle is too wrapped up in the conversation to notice.

“This is great wine,” his uncle says, and Marcus moves his own thumb to rub over Esca's. “A fine choice, Esca.”

“I must admit, I know very little about wine,” Esca replies. “I chose it because it was my father's favorite.”

“Well, he's a man of great taste!” Marcus's uncle declares, and moves his glass to clink against Esca's. “Tell me, what does your father do?”

“He was a railway engineer, but he and my mother are no longer living.” He says it matter-of-factly, but his touch slows a little against Marcus's hand.

“Ahh, an unfortunate thing,” his uncle muses, and tilts his glass towards Marcus. “Something the two of you have in common then.”

Esca turns and gives him a curious look. “You hadn't told me that.”

“It didn't come up.” Marcus can only shrug. “Car accident. I was fourteen.”

“I'm sorry,” Esca says, considering him for a moment and gripping his hand tightly under the table, before turning back to continue the conversation.

“I'd be interested in learning more about wine from you,” he says, changing the subject, much to Marcus's relief.

His uncle is smiling agreeably. “It'd be my pleasure! Marcus only drinks my wine, he never cared to learn about it, so an enthusiastic student would be most welcome.”

Esca's fingers are moving against Marcus's again, as his uncle outlines his plan for educating Esca in the art of being a wine connoisseur.

 

The dinner eventually comes to an end, and they bid goodbye to his uncle, with Esca agreeing to accompany Marcus again in two weeks. It's dark when they step outside, and they walk quietly to Marcus's car. When they reach the vehicle, Esca follows Marcus around to the driver's side, and pushes him gently against it.

“Did you have fun?” Marcus is asking, as he waits to see what Esca will do, and the only reply he receives is a nod as Esca leans in to kiss him. Marcus slides an arm around Esca's waist and holds him there, and Esca's hands are in Marcus's hair and moving down the back of his neck to pull him closer.

Esca's tongue is pushing gently against Marcus's mouth, and he parts his lips and lets out a soft sigh as Esca slowly licks at his mouth, searching for his tongue, and Esca groans a little when Marcus finally curls his tongue around Esca's.

Marcus waits, not wanting to do anything to make Esca stop kissing him, until finally Esca eases off with one last gentle kiss and takes a step back. Marcus keeps his arm around Esca's waist, not wanting to let him go, and finally Esca speaks. “Shall we go?”

Marcus nods reluctantly and his hand drops from Esca's waist. “Want me to drive you home?”

Esca smiles at him, and steps forward to kiss him again. “I'd like to go to your place.”

*

Esca leans against the inside of the car door, his head tilted up to look out the window as they pull into the underground parking garage of a towering high-rise. “Is this really where you live?”

“Yeah, why?”

Esca looks over at him and smirks. “It's pretty swank.”

Marcus pulls into his assigned parking spot and shuts off the car before he replies. “Well, where do you live?”

“In a tiny flat near the shop. My flatmates are art students and I sleep on a mattress on the floor.” Esca rolls his eyes and laughs. “It really is as clichéd as it sounds.”

Marcus wants to ask if he can see it sometime, but instead he just smiles and motions to open his door. “Want to come up?”

Then Esca is nodding, and holding his hand while they walk, and pressing him up against the wall in the elevator, and Marcus is hard before he's got the key in the lock. It reminds him of all those long days at work, when Esca would be on his mind, and his dick would be in his hand as soon as he opened his apartment door, except this time Esca's with him, and he's pushing him up against the back of the door and kissing him, and it's better than all of those fantasies combined.

Marcus hadn't noticed it when they kissed by the car, but Esca has to tilt his head up to kiss him and Marcus has to lean down, and it's so fucking sweet that Marcus wants to wrap his arms around him and hug him. But he reaches for Esca's waist instead, pulling him closer, hooking his fingers in Esca's belt loops as Esca's tongue slides into his mouth. He resists the urge to thrust his hips, even though he wants to push his cock against Esca and see if he can feel Esca against him, just as hard, wanting.

Esca's mouth is sweet from the wine, and Marcus slips his tongue in, licking, sliding it along Esca's bottom lip, and pulling back to kiss him softly on the lips. Marcus pauses, and smiles against Esca's mouth, hardly able to believe Esca's finally in his apartment, and then leans in and kisses him again.

“Marcus,” Esca says, his hands on the back of Marcus's neck, pulling him closer so he can whisper in his ear. “Your message...”

He pauses, licking at Marcus's neck, and Marcus manages to pant out an unsexy “what?”

Esca leans in closer. “When you were thinking about me.”

“Yeah.”

“Tell me what you meant.”

Esca's breath is hot against his ear, and Marcus lets out a quiet groan as his hand slides from Esca's waist and he reaches down to grab his own bulge through his jeans. “You know what I meant.”

“I might,” Esca says. “Tell me though.”

“I was thinking of you,” Marcus whispers, tilting his head to speak against Esca's ear. “I thought about you all day.” Marcus palms himself, pushing his hand hard against the head of his cock as Esca glances down between them, watching. “I wanted to get home so I could do this. Touch myself.”

Esca smiles. “And did you?”

Marcus grips himself through his jeans, sliding his fingers along his length, and pants out a “yes.”

“Where?”

“My dick,” Marcus whispers, and Esca laughs quietly and looks up to meet his eye.

“I mean, tell me where you did it.”

“Right here,” Marcus says, smiling, gripping himself tighter and fighting the urge to unzip his jeans and take his cock out. “On my knees. I jerked myself and came all over the floor.”

Then Esca's smiling too, and his hands are in Marcus's hair as he pulls him close to whisper, “Marcus, you're so fucking kinky,” and Marcus has to let go of his cock as Esca's tongue slides over his ear and down his neck, because he fears he might come right there. “Do you always do it here?”

Marcus shakes his head. “Anywhere,” he pants out, “the kitchen, the shower.. my bed.”

“Will you show me?” Esca whispers, and Marcus isn't quite sure what he means and the expression on his face must convey that because Esca kisses the side of his face and speaks again, “Will you let me watch?”

A whimper escapes Marcus's lips, and his cock throbs inside his jeans, and then he's whispering against Esca's ear, “I'll show you anything.”

 

Marcus isn't quite sure how they make it to his bedroom, but once they're there he remembers the mess of rejected clothes from earlier that evening, and Esca's laughing at him as he tosses things off the bed and attempts to kick everything into a pile in the corner.

“Forget that,” Esca says, tugging at Marcus's belt. “C'mon.”

He distracts Marcus with a kiss, wet and sloppy against his mouth, and somewhere in the middle of it Marcus manages to pull Esca's sweater up over his head, and his fingers fumble with the buttons on the front of Esca's shirt. He gets the top three unbuttoned but pops the fourth right off, and they laugh as it clatters across the wood floor.

“You owe me a shirt,” Esca teases, and Marcus grins as he gives the shirt a hard tug and sends the rest of the buttons flying across the floor.

He eases the fabric over Esca's shoulders, leaning down to lick the taut skin, and he wants to slide his tongue down Esca's arm and trace over his tattoo, but Esca is gently pushing his head back and saying, “you, I want to see you.”

Marcus nods and takes a step back, his fingers moving easily over the buttons on his own shirt, and he shrugs it off and lets it fall to the floor. His nipples harden as the cool air of the room hits them, and without thinking he raises a hand to run his thumb over one. He hears Esca take a slight inhale of breath, so he moves his hand over to touch the other one.

“Is that what you do?” Esca asks, and Marcus nods.

“I wish it was your mouth,” he hears himself saying, and he sees Esca's lips part, and then Marcus is reaching to undo his belt buckle, wanting to show Esca what he does – how he touches himself, how much he wants Esca to touch him, and how much he wants to touch Esca. “I'll show you,” he's saying, unzipping his pants and letting them fall low on his hips. “I'll show you how hard you make me.”

“On the bed,” Esca interrupts, reaching down to unbuckle his own belt, and Marcus moves to the bed without question, standing beside it and waiting as Esca moves to the opposite side. He watches Esca unzip his jeans and slide them off, and suddenly he's standing there, clad only in his briefs, and Marcus's cock aches at the familiar sight.

“Esca,” Marcus whispers. And somehow, in the haze of lust, his brain registers that Esca's briefs are black and white stripes, and his mind goes back to that first night when he tried to picture what Esca might wear, and Marcus is smiling because for once he's managed to predict something about Esca. “Stripes,” he says, and Esca is giving him an odd look, glancing down at his briefs before cocking his head towards Marcus. 

“Now you.”

Marcus pushes his jeans down over his black briefs, and lets them fall to the floor and his cock is pushing out against the black fabric. He runs his hand over his bulge once, outlining it, wanting to tease Esca, but the need to be naked is too great and he hooks his fingers in the fabric and tugs his briefs down.

A low whistle emanates from Esca, and he glances up to meet Esca's smile with his own.

“On the bed,” Esca pants out, “on your knees,” and Marcus doesn't hesitate.

He tries to resist the urge to touch himself as he kneels there with his cock jutting out – the tip of it glistening and wet as a line of pre-come trails down to the bed. He's flexing his hands, his knuckles going white, as he waits, and finally Esca whispers, “show me what you do.”

Marcus splays his hand across his stomach, sliding his fingers down, tracing over the dark trail of hair, and he takes a sharp breath just before he wraps his hand around himself. He gives one long slow tug and lets his breath out slowly, relief and pleasure washing over him as he grips his aching cock. He slides his hand over himself, and watches Esca watching him, and Marcus has to fight the urge to close his eyes – when he's alone he keeps them closed, but Esca's there and he's looking, and Marcus wants to see him. Want to see his reaction. Wants to know if Esca's enjoying it.

Esca takes a step forward and kneels on the bed in front of Marcus. “Keep going,” he says, “I want to see,” and Marcus glances down at Esca's briefs, and a manages to bite back a moan when he realizes Esca is hard too, the distinct line of his cock pushing against the striped fabric.

Marcus brings his hand up to his mouth and licks his palm. “I'll show you,” he pants, and then he's gripping himself tighter and moving his hips to fuck through the hole created by his slicked fingers. “I do it like this. Fuck my hand like this and think of you.”

He stares up at Esca through heavy lids, and Esca's tongue slides out to wet his parted lips, and Marcus can't stop himself from running his mouth, “I think about you all the time. I think of kissing you. And I think of licking you, and sucking your cock, and fucking you.”

Marcus eases his grip, and slides his thumb over the head of his cock, teasing himself. He brings his stray hand up to thumb over his nipples, and he watches as Esca's hand moves to skim over himself, his fingers lightly touching his cock through his briefs, and Marcus wants to reach out and grab him, yank down his briefs, and suck that teasing cock into his mouth. But, instead, he stays where he is, and manages to pant out, “will you kiss me?” and Esca is suddenly rearing up closer, grabbing the back of Marcus's head and pulling him in for a kiss, hard and frantic, and he's whispering against Marcus's mouth, “so good, Marcus. You're so good.”

Marcus is panting as Esca kisses him, and his hand is still sliding over his cock, pulling himself to the brink, and he knows Esca's hand is on himself, pushing hard against his cock through the fabric, and suddenly Marcus's brain slips back to Esca's text, and he can hear himself saying, “you said _me too_ ,” and he feels Esca laugh gently against his mouth.

“You said _me too_ ,” Marcus says again, and he can hardly get the words out but he wants to know, “do you think of me,” and Esca is still kissing him as he manages to ask, “when you come?” and Esca slides his tongue over Marcus's again and again before he pulls back, his breath panting hot against Marcus's mouth as he whispers “yes.”

And Marcus is coming. His body stills as his cock pulses in his hand, and he watches two long lines of cum hit Esca, trailing across his fingers and his briefs and down along his thigh. Esca is kissing him again as Marcus is muttering “sorry,” and trying to reach over to wipe the wetness off, and Esca laughs and tells him it doesn't matter and Marcus lets himself fall back a little, sitting back on his heels as he catches his breath.

“You now,” he says suddenly, rearing up on his knees again and reaching out cautiously, wanting to palm Esca through his briefs.

Esca's still laughing as he shakes his head. “Next time, next time,” and Marcus realizes he must have a hurt look on his face because Esca is kissing him again. “I wanted to see you tonight,” Esca says, and his hand is pressing and squeezing himself hard through his briefs as he wills his cock to go down. “Just you.”

 

Esca stays long enough for Marcus to catch his breath, and then he's redressing and they set a date for eight days later, with Esca apologizing for his work schedule. Then Marcus reluctantly watches him leave and he's gone again.

 

Marcus showers and goes to bed, and the buzz of his phone wakes him an hour later. He squints at the message in the darkness.

[ _Sorry I woke you. Wanted to let you know I was just thinking about you. Now go back to sleep._ ]

Marcus is smiling as his eyes fall shut again.

*

[ _Hi._ ]

They've been texting on and off for three days. With Esca's work schedule, it's easier than talking on the phone, and Marcus usually initiates it by sending a basic _hi_ message and waiting until Esca has a free moment to reply.

Marcus tries not to watch the clock, but he knows it's almost two hours later when Esca finally texts back.

[ _Hi yourself. What're you doing?_ ]

[ _Thinking about you._ ]

[ _Ha. Bet that's not true._ ]

[ _It's partially true. I'm still at work._ ]

[ _Same._ ]

[ _Coffee shop?_ ]

[ _Yes, then the club._ ]

[ _:(_ ]

[ _I hate emoticons, but somehow when they're from you they're cute. Explain that one._ ]

[ _Easy, you think I'm cute._ ]

[ _Do I?_ ]

[ _You said so._ ]

[ _Did I?_ ]

Marcus is usually slower to reply to Esca's teasing, typing out and deleting several replies until another text from Esca arrives to reassure him.

[ _Stop fretting. I do think you're cute. Back to work now._ ]

 

Marcus is turning the key to his apartment door when his phone buzzes again.

[ _Home?_ ]

[ _I am now. You?_ ]

[ _On the bus. Then at the club until 12._ ]

Marcus resists sending another frown. [ _Five more days._ ]

[ _Too long. Anything in mind?_ ]

Marcus wants to type out what he's got in mind. Kissing Esca until he's breathless. Touching him, licking him, sucking and fucking him. Watching him come. Holding him, if Esca lets him. Catching his breath and then doing it all again.

[ _Lots of things._ ]

[ _Almost at my stop. What things?_ ]

Marcus pauses, unsure how to reply, worried he'll say too much and scare Esca off. As always, another text arrives from Esca.

[ _Stop thinking. What things?_ ]

Marcus stares at his phone for a moment before typing a reply.

[ _Everything._ ]

[ _Fuck, you are cute._ ]

 

Nearly four hours pass before Marcus's phone buzzes again.

[ _Long night._ ]

[ _Yeah?_ ]

[ _Yeah. What's new there?_ ]

[ _Not much. Reading. Watching tv. Waiting to hear from you._ ]

[ _What're you wearing?_ ]

Marcus stares at his phone before glancing down at himself. He's clad in an old t-shirt, jeans, and no socks.

[ _Nothing._ ]

[ _Ha. Liar._ ]

[ _Yeah. Jeans and a shirt._ ]

[ _That's it?_ ]

[ _Yep. Why?_ ]

[ _What's under your jeans?_ ]

Marcus considers his reply for a moment.

[ _My dick._ ]

[ _Are you hard?_ ]

An ache radiates through his cock as Marcus reads the words, and he groans and rubs himself through his jeans.

[ _I am now. Wish you weren't working._ ]

[ _Me too._ ]

Marcus waits for a second, hand lingering on his bulge through the denim, and Esca texts again.

[ _Break over. Wait for me?_ ]

[ _What?_ ]

[ _Don't come before my next break. I want to picture you hard and waiting._ ]

Another groan escapes him as Marcus's cock aches with want, but he pulls his hand away to type out another message.

[ _I'll wait._ ]

 

Several hours pass, and it's well past twelve o'clock when Marcus finally showers and brushes his teeth and crawls into bed. His cock calmed down hours ago, and he can barely keep his eyes open, and maybe it's for the best that Esca didn't text again. Maybe he was busy on his break, or he just forgot.

 _No big deal._ Marcus tells himself.

Still, he sets the phone by his pillow, just in case, and nods off.

 

He's not sure how much time has passed when his phone buzzes, but he's pretty sure he hasn't been asleep for long. He glances at the clock, _1:17am_ , and grabs for his phone.

[ _Sorry. Like I said, long night._ ]

Marcus yawns as he types a reply.

[ _No bg deal. Get some sleeep_ ]

[ _Did I wake you?_ ]

Marcus knows it's pointless to lie, somehow Esca always knows, and he's pretty sure his typos are a giveaway.

[ _Yeah but I dont mind._ ]

[ _Want company?_ ]

Marcus rubs at his eyes and rereads the text. He's just about to type _yes_ when the phone rings and Esca's name appears on the screen.

“Hey.” Marcus's voice is hoarse when he answers, and he coughs quietly to clear his throat. “Sorry, hi.”

“Hi,” There's static on the line, and a lot of background noise that almost drowns out Esca, but Marcus can't help but smile when he hears the familiar voice. “Can I come over?”

“Yeah,” Marcus replies, and he realizes he sounds more surprised than enthusiastic. “Of course.”

“I just need to shower and change my cl--” The background noise drowns him out for a few moments, and Marcus sits up in bed and waits until he's able to hear Esca again. “Sorry.”

“No problem.”

“You're in bed?”

“Yeah, but I'll get up and--”

“Don't get up,” Esca stresses. “Stay where you are, go back to sleep. I just want to come over.”

“Okay,” Marcus's voice is quiet, and he yawns softly before continuing, “I'll unlock the door. Buzz me and I'll let you in.”

“See you soon then,” Esca says, and he sounds like he's smiling, and the call ends.

Marcus jumps out of bed and his feet pad quietly across the floor as he heads for the door. He slowly unlocks the deadbolt and unlatches the chain, then stops to brush his teeth again, checking his reflection in the mirror and attempting to flatten his hair with the palm of his hand, before returning to bed.

He climbs under the sheets and glances at the clock. _1:39am._

Marcus closes his eyes and attempts to sleep.

 

Marcus doesn't manage to fall back asleep and, instead, he gets up to brush his teeth one more time – just in case. When he finally receives a buzz from downstairs, he hits the entry button without even questioning whether or not it's Esca.

Then he waits.

In Marcus's mind, the two minute trip from the main entrance, up the elevator, to Marcus's door seems to take Esca forever, and he lets out a sigh of relief when he finally hears the door to his apartment open and then quietly close. Marcus stays in bed, as Esca told him to, and listens as Esca shuffles around in the entryway and then softly pads down the small hallway to Marcus's bedroom. The door creaks open, and Marcus tries to will himself to keep his eyes closed, but opens them enough to see Esca silently pull off his shirt, unbutton his jeans and kick them off, and step towards the bed. The light in the room is dim, but Marcus can tell Esca's wearing briefs –white ones with a black band around the waist– and he can't hide his smile.

“You're awake?” Esca whispers, and Marcus is quiet for a moment before replying.

“Yeah.”

Esca slips under the sheets, sliding up as close to Marcus as possible without touching him. “Have you been awake this whole time?”

“Sort of.”

“Sorry,” Esca says softly, and Marcus isn't quite sure why they're still whispering but he decides he likes the quiet closeness of it.

“Don't be,” Marcus whispers back. “I'm glad you're here.”

Esca kisses him once, quickly, and Marcus isn't yet sure how to read Esca's signals, so he waits. They're silent for several long moments, watching each other, before Esca speaks again, his voice still a murmur. “Are you naked?”

Marcus glances down at his bare chest. “No.”

“What're you wearing?”

Marcus pulls back the sheet, revealing his gray cotton pajama bottoms, tied at the waist. He gives Esca a sheepish look. “Should I take them off?”

“Nah, I like them.” Esca smiles and reaches out under the covers, trailing his hand along Marcus's hip. “I like that you stayed in your pajamas even though you knew I was coming.”

Marcus wants to explain, to tell Esca that he didn't want to presume anything, or expect anything, even though he was hoping, but instead he just smiles back. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Fucking cute.”

Cute.

“That word again.”

Esca furrows his brow, his hand stilling on Marcus's hip. “What, fucking?”

“Cute. You've called me that at least three times today.”

Esca laughs. “You've only got yourself to blame for that one,” he says, “and I didn't realize you were counting.”

“I wasn't, really. I just noticed.” Marcus is still whispering, and he's trying to figure out if cute is a good thing or a bad thing. Apparently Esca thinks it's good, but is it _good_ good? Does Esca want a cute boyfriend? _Does Esca want a cute boyfriend? What the hell, Marcus?_

He stops silently berating himself for a moment and finds Esca studying him.

“Do you want me to stop?” Esca asks.

“No,” Marcus replies honestly, “as long as it's still a good thing.”

Then Esca's giving him an odd look, and smiling, and tugging Marcus's waist to pull him closer. “Yeah, it's still a good thing,” Esca leans in to kiss him again, their lips pressing together softly, quickly, over and over as Esca speaks against his mouth, “of course it's a good thing.”

Marcus is nodding, and silent, and he kisses Esca back until Esca eases off and tucks his face against Marcus's neck, and Marcus can just barely make out the words Esca is whispering.

“You're so fucking good, Marcus.”

Unsure of what to say in response, Marcus simply wraps his arms around Esca and pulls him closer.

“Don't you know that?” Esca whispers, and Marcus shrugs against him, and they're quiet for several long minutes. Marcus would be content to fall asleep that way, and he's nearly ready to nod off when he feels Esca speak again, his whispered breath hot against Marcus's neck.

“I'm glad I came.”

“Me too,” Marcus replies, and he realizes that he's mumbling.

Esca laughs against him. “I should let you sleep.”

“Nahh,” he says, trying hard to open his eyes, but Esca is so warm against him and he really would like to sleep, just like this, with Esca in his arms and the room dark and cozy, and maybe if they sleep Esca will stay the entire night, and he wonders what Esca looks like when he's sleeping, and if his hair will be messy in the morning.

Then Esca is laughing again, and shushing him, and Marcus wonders if he said some of that out loud. “I'm staying,” Esca says against Marcus's neck. “Now stop talking, and go to sleep.”

*

Daylight has just begun peaking through the window when Marcus opens his eyes. For a split second he wonders if Esca really did come over last night, or if it was a dream, and he glances over to see a sleeping form beside him. He stares for a moment, not quite believing it, and it really is Esca. He's breathing quietly, and his hair is sticking up a bit, and Marcus wants to reach over and touch it, smooth it down, run his fingers through it. Esca shifts, and Marcus closes his eyes. He hears Esca move, and a warm body is suddenly pressed to his side, and then he feels Esca's breath against his neck. Marcus waits, wondering if it's the soft breath of sleep, and he bites back a small moan when he feels Esca's tongue trail over his skin. It's gentle, but insistent, as Esca places wet little licks and kisses along Marcus's neck and up to his mouth. 

“You're awake,” Esca whispers, and Marcus opens one eye to glance at him.

“How'd you know?”

Esca grins at him. “The snoring stopped.”

 _Great. Sexy, Marcus._ “I don't snore.”

“You do, though.” Esca is still smiling, watching him. “I don't care. It's--”

“Cute?”

“I was going to say endearing,” Esca says, just before he slips his tongue over Marcus's lips, eagerly seeking the warm wetness there, “but yeah, cute works too.”

“Should I brush my teeth?” he can hear himself asking, because Esca is kissing him and he just woke up, and _Jesus Christ, Marcus, shut the fuck up already._

And it's as if Esca can read his mind, because he's laughing and telling him to shut up, and curling his tongue into Marcus's mouth. Marcus shifts, easing himself on top of Esca as they kiss and he can feel Esca's cock, hard, pressing against his own.

“Esca,” Marcus breathes, grinding his hips experimentally and sighing when Esca pushes back. He shifts again, moving down, sliding his tongue from Esca's lips, along his jaw, down his neck, until he's hovering over Esca's chest. “Can I?” Marcus whispers, because he hasn't really touched Esca yet and he's not sure if there are rules, and Esca lets out a quiet laugh.

“Yeah.”

Marcus brings his hand up to thumb over one of Esca's nipples, teasing it, squeezing it between his big fingers, and it brings him back to that last night at the club, the last time Esca danced for him and he was allowed to touch, just a little, but not enough. He glances up at Esca, unsure if he should ask again, and decides to test it, leaning forward and licking across the peaked skin. Esca sighs in response, and curls his fingers in Marcus's hair, so Marcus sucks the dark bud into his mouth, tonguing over it again and again until Esca gently pulls Marcus's head away and moves it to his other nipple, watching as Marcus takes it in his mouth. He licks it, over and over, sucking and teasing until Esca is arching up into him, and then Marcus is sliding his tongue across Esca's chest, back to the other side. Marcus stays there, licking and thumbing over the pert skin of Esca's nipples –not wanting to stop because he's finally allowed– until Esca is sighing with pleasure and pulling Marcus up to kiss him again.

Marcus shifts again, so he's pressed against Esca's side, one hand wandering until his fingers hover at Esca's waistband. He pulls away from Esca's mouth for a moment, glancing down, and he can see a teasing glimpse of skin where Esca's cock is straining against his briefs. Marcus wants to lean down and tongue at that pale skin, to pull the fabric aside and see every inch of Esca's cock, but he pauses, waiting, kissing Esca again. His hand hovers over Esca's cock, wanting to touch so badly.

“Can I?” he pants against Esca's mouth. “Oh God, Esca, can I?”

“Yeah,” Esca lets out a shaky laugh, “please.”

Marcus moans as he carefully wraps his hand around Esca's cock, gripping it through the fabric. He can feel its heat, and he slides his fingers over it, touching, teasing, his mouth still pressed against Esca's, before he slowly lifts the fabric. He's cautious, pulling the briefs to the side and exposing the length of Esca's cock, then gently running his fingers along it. At the touch, Esca lets out a breath against Marcus's mouth, his hand sliding from Marcus's hair to grasp the back of his neck.

Marcus's own cock aches as he slides his thumb and forefinger over Esca, gently skimming the cock head where it peeks out from under the sheath of skin. Esca lets out another breath when Marcus slides his hand over him, thumbing over his head, teasing the wet slit, and then he's gripping Esca's cock, easing down the skin, and giving him a few gentle strokes.

Marcus can't quite believe that his hands are finally on Esca, and he slips his tongue into Esca's mouth, wanting Esca to kiss him back harder as he strokes his cock – wanting to feel Esca, panting, breathless against him. Esca returns his kisses, frantically, curling his tongue around Marcus's while thrusting his hips up and fucking into Marcus's hand.

The skin of Esca's cock is smooth as it slides against Marcus's fingers, and he flicks his thumb over the head, slipping in the wetness there. “I want to suck you,” he whispers against Esca's mouth.

Esca's hips stutter in their movement, but he doesn't reply.

“Can I?” Marcus asks, suddenly unsure, and Esca is nodding, pushing gently against Marcus's head.

Esca reaches down to tug his briefs off, and he sounds breathless but amused when he finally replies, “Marcus, stop asking. You don't have to ask,” and then Marcus is smiling, because he's suddenly pretty sure Esca wants this almost as much as he does, and when the hell did that happen, and why didn't he realize it earlier?

He kisses Esca hard before trailing his lips down Esca's torso, and ghosting over the light trail of hair from his navel to his cock. Marcus pauses, wanting to savor it because it feels like he's been waiting so long to see Esca naked, and now his cock is right there, and Marcus is finally allowed to take it in his mouth and feel Esca come down his throat. The skin of Esca's torso and thighs is soft and pale, and creased with lines from the sheets as he slept. Marcus slides his fingers along the warm skin, tracing the fading lines, and he breathes in, wanting to smell Esca, and he groans at the slight scent of sweat and musk and soap. Esca is above him, quiet, watching.

Marcus glances up at him, and their eyes meet and he wants to smile because he knows he's allowed to do this, he knows he doesn't have to ask. He brushes his cheek against Esca's length and then finally, unable to wait any longer, he slides his mouth over Esca's cock.

Things move quickly from that point, as Esca clasps his fingers in Marcus's hair and gently fucks up into his mouth, and Marcus tongues over him, so glad to finally have Esca's slick cock between his lips. He licks and sucks, tonguing into the slit of Esca's cock and sliding his hand down to trail over Esca's balls, attempting to draw a moan out of him, and Marcus is thrusting, half against Esca's leg, half against the mattress. His cock presses hard against the gray pajama bottoms, and Marcus knows he's leaking through the fabric and likely leaving a trail of pre-come on Esca's leg, and the thought of that makes him rut even harder.

He knows Esca is close when a small moan finally escapes Esca's lips, and Marcus is torn between wanting to see him come and wanting to feel that hot liquid in his throat. He reaches a quick compromise, wrapping his hand around Esca's length and pulling him from his mouth, holding him about an inch away with his lips parted and waiting. Esca's hips stutter again when he realizes what Marcus is doing, and he lets out another moan as he stills, his fingers clenched in Marcus's hair, and then his cock jerks and a white streak lands on Marcus's parted lips. Marcus opens wider as Esca's cock pulses again and another streak of cum lands on Marcus's tongue. Marcus stays there, still, fist curled around Esca's cock as he milks the last few drops, and then he gently takes Esca back into his mouth, sucking him clean.

Marcus is licking his lips and he can hardly believe he's just watched Esca come, and the taste of Esca is still on his tongue as his mind suddenly goes back to his own cock throbbing beneath the thin layer of cotton. Esca seems to remember too, because he's kissing Marcus and reaching down, fingers fumbling with the ties before he finally gets them open and he's sliding his hand down to grasp Marcus beneath the fabric. Esca's quick, and his hand is so warm, and Marcus barely has time to register that Esca is jerking him before he's spilling his load against the gray fabric.

“Sorry,” Marcus is saying, because _shit_ he always feels like he's disappointed Esca somehow, not getting his pants off, or going too quickly, or whatever it was that Esca might've wanted that Marcus couldn't read from him.

“For what?” Esca asks as his hand slips out from beneath Marcus's pants. He licks his palm before sucking his first two fingers into his mouth, and Marcus's mouth drops open because Esca is licking his cum off his fingers. “I've been wanting that for awhile now.”

Marcus stares at him, wide-eyed. “How long?”

Esca grins. “Just awhile.”

Marcus doesn't push him further, even though he really wants to know, and they lie together until the sun is up.

“Let me drive you to work,” Marcus says, because that's what good boyfriends do, and he's not sure if he's Esca's boyfriend yet, or what this is, but he wants to offer, and he can't hide his smile when Esca says “alright” and kisses him again.

*

When his phone buzzes, three hours later, Marcus is sitting in a restaurant with his uncle. He shifts in his chair, attempting to ease his phone out of his pocket without interrupting his uncle's spiel about the best location to get a good caesar salad, and he glances down at the screen. [ _1 new message._ ] Marcus taps the little mail icon and Esca's name appears, with a single word underneath.

[ _Hi._ ]

Biting down a smile, Marcus eases the phone back into his pocket and attempts to focus on the conversation at the table.

“--with a coddled egg,” his uncle is saying. “They make the dressing at the table.”

Marcus nods and eats a forkful of his salad as his uncle continues.

“They've used anchovies here,” he says, “whereas the original recipe calls for Worcestershire sauce.”

“Tastes alright to me,” Marcus replies, speaking around the food in his mouth.

His uncle laughs. “I'm not surprised.”

They continue eating, and his uncle is just in the middle of explaining the benefits of tearing romaine lettuce as opposed to cutting it with a knife, when he interrupts himself, calling Marcus out of his daydream.

“Would you like to answer your phone?”

Marcus glances up from his plate, “what?”

“You've been thumbing that device for several minutes now,” he points to Marcus's pocket, where his fingers are skimming over the outline of the phone against his jeans. “Clearly your mind is elsewhere.”

Marcus pulls his hand back up to the table. “I didn't want to interrupt our meal.”

“You needn't worry about offending me, Marcus,” he takes another bite of salad, giving Marcus an amused grin. “We both know I'll continue talking, whether you're listening or not.”

Marcus nods and shrugs, because his uncle makes a good point, and he reaches down to pull his phone out of his pocket. His uncle returns to his discussion of the proper handling of lettuce as Marcus types out a reply.

[ _Hi yourself._ ]

It only takes a minute or so for his phone to buzz again.

[ _Busy?_ ]

[ _Lunch with my uncle_ ]

[ _Give him my best._ ]

[ _I will when I can get a word in._ ]

[ _Ha. Can he see this?_ ]

[ _No_ ]

[ _Does that mean I can tell you that you've been distracting me all fucking morning?_ ]

Marcus rereads the message, grinning, and then types a reply.

[ _Yeah how?_ ]

He receives three texts in quick succession.  
[ _I didn't realize how big your fucking hands were until they were on my cock._ ]  
[ _Can't stop thinking about it._ ]  
[ _I've spilled two drinks this morning already._ ]

His uncle is still talking, but Marcus doesn't hear a word of it, and he bites back a laugh as his fingers fumble over the small keypad.

[ _Sorry_ ]

[ _Don't be. It's hot._ ]

Marcus pauses, considering his reply, and another text arrives.

[ _Break over. Have to run._ ]

Marcus is smiling to himself as he slips his phone back into his pocket, and fails to notice his uncle watching him.

“Esca, I assume?” his uncle says, and Marcus glances up, attempting a neutral expression.

“Hmm?”

“Judging by the smile on your face a moment ago, I'm assuming it was Esca on the phone.” His uncle is giving him that damn mischievous grin, and Marcus knows that he knows.

“He sent me a text, yes,” Marcus replies vaguely.

“Ahh, yes, a text,” his uncle says, but Marcus knows that he doesn't really understand –or care to learn– the technology. “Have you made plans for the evening?”

“No, not today.” Marcus shifts in his chair.

“You should invite him out tonight,” his uncle says. “Come to the villa. Swim and ride, if you'd like. Drink my wine. I can make myself scarce.”

“He has to work.”

“All day?”

“He has a second job.” Marcus hopes his uncle doesn't pry further, because he'd rather not be having _that_ conversation right now.

“Two jobs _and_ an education?” His uncle is shaking his head. “Admirable. He's a hard worker.”

Marcus nods, and his uncle considers him for a moment before continuing.

“He seems very fond of you.”

“Do you think so?”

“Do you not?”

Marcus sighs, because he's not sure he wants to be discussing Esca with his uncle, but he _would_ like to hear someone else's opinion.

“Sometimes I think so. Other times I have no idea.”

“Ahh, to be young and clueless again.” His uncle laughs. “Marcus, you over analyze everything and yet you can't see what's in front of your face.”

“Well, you've only met him once.”

“I've met him twice.”

“Okay, twice.”

“And the second time he was holding your hand under my dining table, and asking your old uncle to teach him about wine. If that's not fondness, I'm not sure what is.”

“Maybe he just wants to learn about wine.”

His uncle sighs, letting out a long exaggerated breath through his nose. “Marcus, my boy, you're an idiot. And I say that with the utmost affection and love.”

*

Marcus is doing laundry when he finally pulls out his phone and sends off a text to Esca.

[ _My uncle says hi_ ]

He waits for a moment, considering whether or not he should send another one. He leans against the machine, eying the small keypad and slowly types out a second message.

[ _and he thinks you're fond of me_ ]

He reads it three times before sliding his thumb over. Sent.

Marcus cringes. Maybe he should've kept that information to himself. Maybe Esca will think it's weird. Or, knowing Esca, he'll think it's cute. Or he'll be amused, at least, hopefully.

_Damn it._

He tosses the rest of his clothes in the washer, grabs his phone, and heads for the elevator. His phone is buzzing before he's even stepped on.

[ _Does he?_ ]

Marcus considers his reply before sending off a quick [ _yes_ ] as he punches the number for his floor. Esca takes awhile to reply, and Marcus is sitting on his couch when his phone finally buzzes again.

[ _and how does he know that?_ ]

Marcus grins.

[ _he saw you holding my hand_ ]

[ _Ha. Quite observant._ ]  
[ _and what do you think?_ ]

 _I think he's right._ Delete delete delete. _I think you are._ DELETE.

Marcus types out and deletes two replies before settling on a third.

[ _I told him I wasn't sure._ ]

[ _and what did he say to that?_ ]

[ _He called me an idiot. but he meant it with love._ ]

Marcus waits for his phone to buzz again and nearly drops it when it rings. Esca's name appears on his screen, and he doesn't even get a chance to say hello before Esca starts talking, “I refuse to type out L-O-L, but that did make me laugh.”

“Yeah?” Marcus is sure Esca can hear the grin in his voice.

“Yeah.”

There's a pause, and it seems as if Esca is waiting for him to say something more. “So,” he says slowly. “What do _you_ think?

Esca laughs. “I think your uncle is a smart man.”

 

Esca had ended the conversation quickly –he wasn't on break but had managed to sneak off to answer Marcus's text– and he warned Marcus that Saturdays at the club were busy, and they likely wouldn't get a chance to text that night. So Marcus is surprised when his phone buzzes shortly before 11pm, and Esca's name appears on his screen. He can hear the pulsing beat of the music as soon as he answers the phone.

“Esca?”

“Hi, --- to ---- --- quick. Mind --- --- --- over tonight?” His words are nearly drowned out by the background noise, but Marcus hears enough to understand.

“Of course, yeah, come over.”

“It'll --- be late ---”

“I don't care, whenever, I'll wait up.”

“It's been --- --- night. --- --- want your hands on ---.”

“Okay,” Marcus replies, his dick suddenly distracting him as he struggles for something more coherent to say. “Yeah, me too.”

Marcus can barely make out the sound of Esca's laughter before he ends the conversation, “good, --- --- --- ,” and then there's a click, followed by silence, and he's gone.

*

It's nearly 3am when Marcus receives a buzz from the front lobby. He's in bed, wide awake, and he waits until he hears the door creak open before he hops out of bed and stalks down the hall.

The lights are dim, but Marcus can see the mild amusement on Esca's face as Marcus approaches.

“Hey,” Esca says, and he's smiling, and Marcus is grabbing his face and kissing him hard, pushing him up against the door.

“Hey yourself,” Marcus replies between kisses. He's been considering this since Esca called – doing what he wants without asking first. Esca said he didn't have to ask, and fuck, he's been wanting to kiss Esca since he left him at the coffee shop that morning.

He eases Esca's coat off his shoulders, letting it drop to the floor behind him, and then he's tracing his fingers over Esca's tattoo. The blue is partially covered by Esca's shirtsleeve, and Marcus nudges the fabric away with his thumb as he brings his lips to it, kissing and licking along the waved lines. It tastes almost of nothing, maybe mildly of salt, and he's not really sure why he wants to trace over it with his tongue, but he does, and Esca's laughing softly and threading his fingers through the fine hairs at the back of Marcus's neck and pulling him closer.

Marcus's only moment of hesitation is when his hand is hovering over Esca's cock, wanting to grab him through his jeans, and Esca seems to notice because suddenly his own fingers are over Marcus's, pushing, encouraging Marcus to touch. Marcus palms Esca through his the fabric, hand pressed flat against Esca's bulge, grasping, pushing, teasing, and Esca is thrusting against him as his own hand fumbles with the tie on Marcus's pants. 

They're laughing and kissing, and Esca manages to get Marcus's pants halfway down his thighs and then he's jerking him, coaxing little moans out of Marcus, as Marcus flicks open the button of Esca's jeans, yanks down the zipper, and slides his hand inside. Marcus lets out a sigh of laughter when he realizes Esca isn't wearing briefs for once, his cock hanging freely beneath his jeans. His dick is hot and hard, and when Esca pushes up to meet Marcus's hand, Marcus fingers slip in the pre-come already pooling at the head.

“Take me out,” Esca mutters against Marcus's mouth. “I want to see.”

Marcus is nodding, and easing Esca out of his jeans, sliding his hand slowly along his length, teasingly, and Esca lowers his head to see Marcus's hands on him.

“Oh, fuck, Marcus,” he sighs, and his own motion on Marcus's cock seems to stutter as he becomes distracted.

Then Marcus is moving even closer, raising his hand to lick over his palm before tilting his hips so his cock is level with Esca's, and he gently pushes Esca's distracted fingers away as he takes them both in hand. Marcus has been wanting this so badly, and now his cock is flush against Esca's as he slides them against each other, and he lets out a little whimper against Esca's cheek. He wants to yank down the back of Esca's jeans and squeeze the soft flesh of his ass, to press his fingers in, to finger and fuck and tease Esca until he's thrusting into Marcus's hand and coming all over the floor.

But Marcus doesn't.

He waits, content that Esca's given him this much, happy that it's becoming this comfortable and easy.

Marcus moves his hand over them both, his fingers gripping them tightly as they slide against each other, and he kisses the side of Esca's face and watches him watching Marcus's hand. Esca's head threatens to loll back, but he keeps his focus on Marcus's fingers, and the two of them moving together as Marcus strokes them.

Marcus feels an odd sense of satisfaction when he feels Esca begin to tense beside him, and he knows he's close, nearly ready to spill over Marcus's fingers. He hears Esca's breath catch, so Marcus flicks his thumb over the head of Esca's cock and he hears the catch of breath again, and Marcus suddenly understands because _fuck_ his fingers seem large. So he thumbs over Esca again and again, slipping in the wetness there, and then he turns his wrist so his hand almost completely envelopes Esca's cock, and suddenly Esca is sighing and laughing and coming, and he shoots into Marcus's palm, and onto the floor, and onto Marcus's pants where they're bunched around his thighs.

A minute later Marcus is coming too, with Esca's hand grasping his own, as the two of them stroke him to his climax and he shoots across Esca's thigh and onto the floor. They make a quick attempt at clean up, with Marcus dragging a towel over the wet marks on the floor, and then Esca flicks the lock on the door and they head to Marcus's bedroom, stripping off the rest of their clothes along the way.

 

Esca is quiet, slowly exploring Marcus's body with his fingers as Marcus talks sleepily about music and tickets to a concert, and Esca's fingers are ghosting over Marcus's thigh when Marcus suddenly shifts and self-consciously eases his leg away.

Esca glances up at him. “What's it from?”

Marcus looks from Esca to his left leg, where the skin above his knee is thick and distorted. He forgets about the scar sometimes, he's had it so long, and it's faded now. Marcus doesn't usually think of it until someone else mentions it, and until now Esca hasn't asked – maybe he hadn't noticed.

Marcus shrugs. “Nothing.”

“Not nothing, clearly,” Esca says, moving up the bed so his face is level with Marcus's. “But you don't have to tell me.”

“It's not that,” Marcus replies, and he falls silent because he's not used to answering questions about it. Most people either don't notice or _pretend_ they don't notice, and Marcus has always preferred it that way. “I don't usually talk about it. Half the time I forget it's there.”

Esca nods. “How long have you had it then?”

“Since I was fourteen.”

Esca considers the answer for a second before realization dawns on his face, remembering the conversation at Marcus's uncle's, and he doesn't push further. There's silence between them for several long minutes and Esca shifts onto his back and stares up at the ceiling. He seems to be considering something, maybe choosing his words, and Marcus waits.

“My parents died when I was nineteen,” he says quietly, keeping his gaze focused on the ceiling. “Mum had cancer. She was gone two months after they diagnosed her.”

There's a beat, and Marcus waits for him to continue.

“My dad went a month later. He didn't want to be here without her.”

“Sorry,” Marcus whispers, because he is, and he's not sure what else to say.

Esca turns then, to glance at Marcus, and he doesn't seem sad – just resigned to the situation. He shrugs. “That's life, yeah?”

Marcus just nods, because he knows, and he understands that need to shrug it off and change the subject. It's easier.

“So, two nights in then?” Esca says, a teasing smirk playing on his mouth. “You didn't have plans for your weekend?”

“I could've gone out tonight,” Marcus replies. “Lutorius had big plans for us.”

Esca is watching him curiously as he continues.

“But I decided to stay home.” Marcus doesn't finish the sentence, doesn't mention that he wanted to be home in case Esca called and wanted to come over. It's silly and embarrassing, and he'd rather Esca not know quite how hard he's fallen.

If Esca catches what Marcus isn't saying, he doesn't let on. “Lutorius, is he the bloke from that first night?”

“Yeah, he's a work friend,” Marcus says, yawning. “He usually drags me out to get drunk.”

“Or to get lap dances,” Esca finishes, and Marcus turns to look at him, but he's smiling.

Marcus returns the smile. “That was the first time. The only time.”

Esca turns his gaze back to the ceiling. “Lucky night, then,” he says, and Marcus isn't sure if he means lucky night for Marcus, or lucky night for himself, or lucky night for both, so Marcus just nods and waits.

When Esca yawns, and doesn't seem quick to speak again, Marcus asks him something he's been wanting to ask for awhile.

“Do you remember what you said to me?”

Esca's brow furrows. “When?”

“When we met, the first thing you said.”

Esca ponders the question, turning on his side so he's facing Marcus. “Did I ask your name?”

“No.”

“Did I ask where you're from?”

“Nope.”

Esca watches him carefully for a moment. “Will it offend you if I can't remember?”

“Not at all,” Marcus laughs and shrugs, suddenly feeling a bit ridiculous. “It's not a big deal.”

“Well maybe it is, since you've remembered it.” Esca smiles wide, and gives him a playful push on the shoulder. “Fuck, you've got me wondering, now you have to tell me.”

“Never mind.”

“Marcus,” Esca grins, exasperated, “fucking tell me.”

“Okay,” Marcus sighs, almost wishing he hadn't brought it up, “you said 'am I yours?'”

Esca's brow furrows again, and he's looking at Marcus in mild disbelief. “Did I?”

“Yeah,” Marcus replies, unsure if Esca's reaction is a good thing or a bad thing. “Why?”

“I don't usually say that, I mean, ever,” he pauses, smiling, “it's not in my repertoire”

“Well, you said it to me,” Marcus says quietly, biting back a frown and hating himself for suddenly being so bothered by it.

“I believe you,” Esca says quickly, his smile widening as he leans forward to kiss the pout off Marcus's mouth. “I just don't remember.”

Then he's moving forward and wrapping his arms around Marcus, kissing his cheek and forehead, and tucking his face against Marcus's ear. “I wish I remembered.” And Marcus leans into the voice, because it's Esca, and he's not really upset because it's just a stupid little detail, and he's got Esca with him.

They stay that way until they're both nearly asleep, and Marcus glances at the clock. _4:39am._

“You work tomorrow?” he mumbles into Esca's hair.

“Noon.”

“Want me to drive you?”

Esca is nodding, and shifting against him, nearly asleep, and Marcus leans up to flick off the lamp on the bedside table. He fits himself back up beside Esca, smiling into the darkness when he can feel Esca's soft breath against his ear again.

Marcus is almost asleep when he feels Esca shift and sigh, and he's sure he hears Esca whisper, “I miss dancing for you.”

It's the last thing Marcus remembers before sleep takes him.

*

Marcus isn't sure what wakes him, but he jolts from his sleep and glances at the clock. _10:05am_.

He doesn't have to look around the rest of the room to know he's alone. He listens, trying to hear if Esca's in the shower or the kitchen, but the apartment seems silent.

Marcus pulls back the sheets and eases himself out of bed, finally glancing around the room. His clothes from the night before are piled in the corner, something he knows he didn't do, and Esca's clothes are gone. Opening the door, Marcus steps out into the hallway. “Esca?”

There's no answer in the dimly lit apartment as Marcus walks slowly past the washroom, not evening bothering to glance inside. The living room and kitchen are dark, and Marcus checks the lock on the front door – the chain is off, and the deadbolt is unlocked. If Esca left, he was either planning to come back or he was hoping to leave without having to alert Marcus.

 _Maybe he went to get coffee._ Even as he says it to himself Marcus knows it's likely not true.

It's confirmed when he flicks on the light in the kitchen and spots a note on the counter. There's handwriting on it, Marcus can tell from the doorway, and he considers ignoring it because he's not sure if he wants to know what it says. Finally, he walks across the room and reads it.

**_Please don't call. Sorry.  
-Esca_ **

Marcus stares at it for a moment, considering it, before he tosses it back on the counter. He shuts off the kitchen light, and heads for the shower.

He leaves the door unlocked, just in case.

*

Esca doesn't return.

When Marcus finishes his shower, he checks his bedroom again hoping he'll find Esca still asleep, and then he avoids the kitchen for as long as possible, hoping if he stays away long enough the note will disappear.

It doesn't.

The note sits on Marcus's counter, untouched, for three days.

Marcus goes to work. Comes home. Avoids the note. He leaves his phone on the table most evenings, away from him so he's not tempted to call, but with the volume turned up so he can hear it – just in case.

When Wednesday –their planned date night– comes and goes without contact from Esca, Marcus nearly tosses the note in the trash. But then he reconsiders, and sticks it in a drawer. Maybe he'll want to read it again. Maybe if he stares at it long enough, or rereads it enough times, it'll tell him something about why Esca left.

The next day he retrieves it from the drawer and sticks it in his pocket.

He doesn't call Esca. He's tempted to text, asking _why?_ and _how can I fix it?_ but he knows it's almost the same as calling, and Esca asked him not to, and _fuck_ , he has a bit of pride.

There are moments where the note makes him angry, because he doesn't know why Esca left and he wonders how the hell he managed to mess things up – but then, when Marcus pulls the note from his pocket and reads it, he just feels sad.

He misses Esca when he's trying to fall asleep, and Marcus tells himself that it's stupid, because Esca only stayed over twice and they'd hardly had time to develop the little habits that come with relationships. He didn't know what Esca looked like as he slept, or what time he usually woke in the morning, or even what he liked to eat for breakfast. Still, Marcus misses him when he shuts off the light, and he misses him when he wakes alone in the morning.

 _Fuck_ , he misses Esca all the time.

*

He has lunch with his uncle on Saturday, and Marcus doesn't tell him that Esca won't be coming to the villa on Tuesday. Marcus will make up an excuse when the time comes, even though he knows his uncle will see right through it – he always does. As the meal comes to an end, Marcus suspects that somehow his uncle knows already, because Marcus hasn't mentioned Esca and his uncle hasn't either. Maybe it's because his phone stays in his pocket through the meal, and there aren't any smile-inducing texts, and Marcus's hands stay on the table.

“If you don't mind some advice from an old man,” his uncle says just before they depart, “you shouldn't be afraid to pursue what you want.”

Marcus doesn't respond, and he's considering feigning confusion, when his uncle continues.

“Whether it works in your favor, or not, you'll regret it if you don't try.”

“He doesn't want me,” Marcus blurts out before he's able to stop himself.

“Ahh, Marcus, my favorite nephew,” his uncle laughs. “He'd be a fool not to want you, and I suspect he's not a fool.”

"Well," Marcus shrugs, and attempts a hopeful smile, “I'll consider your advice”

“I'm glad” his uncle says, giving him a clap on the shoulder and heading for the door.

Marcus watches him walk away, considering his uncle's words.

“And I'm your only nephew,” Marcus shouts to him.

“Semantics,” his uncle calls back, waving his hand in the air as he walks out the door.

*

It's a huge mistake. _It's a huge fucking mistake_ , and Marcus is sure of it, and he knows he shouldn't be here, but he's not really sure he can take another week of not knowing, and maybe if he doesn't do _something_ he'll just fuck it up completely and lose whatever he might've had with Esca in the first place.

And that is why he finds himself sitting on a bench at midnight, across the street from Esca's club.

Marcus doesn't go in, because he promised he wouldn't, and if Esca is going to tell him to leave he'd rather it happen on a half-empty street than on a dance floor full of people. He tries to ignore the people walking by, and some ignore him too, but others don't – like the guy who winks, and the group of women who catcall to him as they leave the club. Marcus wishes he'd brought a book or something, and he really wishes he could text Esca and talk about how fucking bored and nervous he is, but..

He considers texting a few other friends, but they'd all likely tell him off because it's after midnight and they work tomorrow, and he actually finds himself wishing his uncle had a cell so he could ask if he's making the right choice, or if it's creepy to be waiting outside Esca's workplace at midnight. He makes a mental note to buy his uncle a phone on his next birthday – technological ignorance be damned.

It's after 1am when the place finally clears out, and Marcus starts to wonder if he missed Esca in the crowd or maybe Marcus had his schedule wrong – he was basing it on past weeks and, _fuck_ , for all he knew Esca could be at home asleep right now. He waits another twenty minutes, tapping the arm of the bench with his fingernails and shifting, and shifting again, because _damn it_ he's nervous and uncomfortable and –good or bad– he really just wants to see Esca.

Marcus's eyes are locked on the door, and he freezes when it suddenly opens and three men exit. Even in the dim light, he can tell one of them is Esca. Marcus watches as they head toward the sidewalk, and the three of them are talking, and Esca smiles at something one of them says, and Marcus feels his chest tighten. He knows he should probably look away and leave, but he can't. Then he watches as the men say goodbye, and the two head towards the parking lot while Esca goes the opposite way and Marcus is sure he's heading to the bus stop, and the idea makes Marcus's heart ache, because it's just Esca, and he's taking the bus home, and there's nothing dangerous or scandalous happening. Marcus wants to call out and offer him a ride, but he doesn't. He just watches, and wants, and he's not sure what catches Esca's attention, but suddenly he's glancing in Marcus's direction and their eyes meet across the street.

 _Damn it._ It's like a fucking movie, except there's no corny soundtrack, and Esca isn't laughing and running through traffic and into his arms.

Marcus can't help but glance away.

He can't bring himself to look back, and he doesn't glance up again until he sees Esca's battered shoes appear in his line of vision and he hears that familiar voice.

“Hey.”

“Hey,” Marcus says, glancing up and meeting Esca's eye. “Sorry.”

Esca is looking at him with amused confusion, and Marcus really wishes he'd sit down on the bench. “Sorry? For what?”

Marcus shrugs. “Being here at some crazy hour of the night, not listening to your note.” He pauses. “Doing whatever I did that made you leave.”

“Jesus, Marcus,” Esca says with a sigh, and he suddenly looks genuinely upset, and Marcus really wishes he hadn't come. Esca glances around at the nearly empty street. “Can we go somewhere and talk?”

Marcus nods and follows Esca up the sidewalk. They walk two blocks in silence until Esca points at another bench. Marcus takes a seat, and Esca sits down beside him, leaving a good foot or more between them.

“Didn't want to do this outside my workplace,” Esca says, and Marcus feels absolutely fucking miserable because he's pretty sure Esca's about to tell him to fuck off, and he'd rather just have the note than have to hear it directly from Esca's lips.

“Marcus, look,” Esca begins, “I should be the one apologizing.”

Marcus turns and glances at him, not really sure where this is going, and Esca still looks upset so Marcus stays quiet and lets him speak.

“I shouldn't have left without an explanation, and I'm sorry.” Esca pauses and takes a deep breath, and Marcus can't tell whether it's frustration or sadness or anger, but Esca seems like he's struggling to explain. “I freaked. I just felt really close to you and I don't let people get close. I told you things I never tell anyone, like what happened to my parents. I mean, this--” he gestures between himself and Marcus, “this never works out for me. You're so fucking good, and I don't get why you want _me_ , and I figure eventually you'll realize you don't. Or you only wanted me because I danced for you, I've seen it before.”

“But I don't--”

“I know,” Esca interrupts. “I know. I just woke up with you that morning and it was so fucking perfect, and I figured I'd rather leave it in that moment, and you wouldn't have to realize you wanted the dancer from the club, and not _me_ , and I wouldn't have to hear you say that.”

“I don't. I want you--” Marcus begins, and Esca interrupts him again.

“Maybe you won't,” Esca says. “With work and school and no free time, I'm not exactly the most exciting boyfriend. I mean, I took you on a fish & chip date because that's the type of boring shit I like. I figure eventually you'll grow tired of it.” 

Marcus can feel the frustration welling up inside him because _what the fuck._

“So because you're scared, we don't even get to try?” Marcus says, voice rising. “Esca, if I wanted some dancer at a club I'd go pick up a dancer at a club. But I want you. Your fish & chips and busy schedule and stubborn fucking ways and fucking horrible language, all of it, I want it.”

Esca laughs. “ _My_ fucking horrible language?”

Marcus shrugs and smiles, “I swear a lot when I'm frustrated.”

Esca smiles back, and he looks nervous and maybe a bit hopeful – but more than anything, Marcus notices, he just looks tired. Marcus wants to take him home and let him sleep and make food for him, and call Esca's jobs and his school and tell them to _fuck off for awhile_.

“So what now?” Esca asks, and Marcus is suddenly brought back to the awkward uncertainty of their first date.

“I don't know,” he replies. “You want ice cream?”

And Esca just laughs and grins. “Too late for ice cream,” he says, “I'm going home.”

Marcus can only bring himself to nod. He wants Esca to come to his place so they can sleep, and he can wake up tomorrow with Esca there, but he doesn't want to push it and scare Esca away. So he just nods.

Esca yawns. “Do you want to come with me?”

And _yes_ , that's exactly what Marcus wants right now.

 

It's late when they get to Esca's apartment, and Esca leaves the lights off as he takes Marcus's hand and leads him down a narrow hallway.

“My flatmates are asleep,” he whispers, pulling Marcus into the room and easing the door shut behind him. He flicks on a small lamp, and the tiny room is bathed in soft yellow light. There's a bookshelf to the left filled with novels and textbooks and papers, and a mattress on the floor. Esca's clothes are piled on a chair in the corner, and the lamp sits on a makeshift table beside his bed. “Home sweet home,” Esca laughs. “The bathroom's right outside my door, if you need it.”

Marcus watches as Esca peels off his shirt and jeans, leaving his briefs on, and leans down to get in bed. Marcus follows suit, stripping off his clothes and getting into bed behind Esca. He shifts so he's on his side, and Esca turns to face him, thumping his pillow a few times and pushing it over so half of it is under Marcus.

“We have to share,” he whispers as he reaches up to flick off the light.

Marcus nods, and presses in closer, and he's hesitant when he puts his hand on Esca's hip, and then around Esca's waist.

“It's okay,” Esca says, sensing his hesitation, and Marcus can hear the smile in his voice. “I can't take off this time.”

Marcus's only response is to pull Esca closer, burying his face against his neck. Esca curls into him, wrapping an arm around Marcus's shoulders.

It doesn't take long for sleep to take them.

“I still want to dance for you,” Esca whispers just as they're drifting off.

There's a pause before Marcus responds. “I still want to fuck you,” he whispers back.

Esca bursts out laughing, tugging Marcus closer, and they fall asleep.

*

Marcus opens one eye, glancing around the unfamiliar room. He stares at the back of Esca's sleep-tousled head, and figures it must be early because they're still in bed and Esca is still sleeping. The shared pillow is now bunched up and completely under Esca, and Marcus lifts his head to determine whether or not he's got a kink in his neck from his pillow-less sleep. He doesn't, fortunately, so he stays where he is and listens to Esca's soft breathing.

It's the first time he's seen Esca completely unguarded. The first night they slept together Esca woke first, and the second night-- Marcus would rather not remember, because it's morning now and he's in Esca's bed, and he's listening to Esca sleep and staring at his messy hair, and it's perfect, and maybe this is how Esca felt when he woke that morning and decided he'd rather leave than--

Esca's voice interrupts his thoughts.

“You awake?” It's barely above a whisper, and Esca doesn't move, and Marcus smiles at the rumpled hair.

“Yeah.”

Esca shifts onto his stomach and turns to face Marcus. Esca's eyes are barely open, and he's got lines on his cheek from the pillow, but he's got a sweet half-smile on his mouth and Marcus wants to kiss him because he looks _fucking beautiful_.

But, as always, Marcus starts talking instead. “What do you eat for breakfast?”

Esca yawns. “Why, you hungry?”

“Not really,” Marcus says, feeling a bit silly, “I'm just trying to learn things about you.”

“Cute as ever, Marcus,” Esca laughs into the pillow before turning to look at him again. “Nothing exciting,” he says when he realizes Marcus is actually interested in an answer, “toast, usually. Or eggs if I have time.”

“And coffee?”

Esca shakes his head, laughing again, “funnily enough, I don't like coffee. But I drink tea like mad.”

Marcus nods, and Esca glances down at the pillow still bunched under him. “I took this?” he exclaims, “you were sleeping without a pillow?” Then he's giving Marcus a pitiful look and trying to shove the pillow back in his direction. “Sorry.”

Marcus resists at first, telling Esca it's fine, but eventually he just gives up and lifts his head so Esca can put it under him.

“So what do you eat for breakfast?” Esca asks when they're settled again.

“Bacon and eggs,” Marcus says, “or bagel and lox. Or eggs benny if it's a weekend,” Marcus is rambling, and he stops when he realizes Esca is smirking at him. “What?”

“Pretty fucking posh,” Esca laughs.

“I can't help it,” Marcus says, exasperatedly, and smiles back at Esca, “have you _met_ my uncle?”

“Fair enough, fair enough.” Esca is still smirking as he shifts in the bed, yawning, stretching. “So you can cook, then?”

“Some,” Marcus nods, “my uncle taught me a bit, and he never stops talking about food so I picked up a lot that way.”

“Will you cook for me sometime?”

“ _Of course_. Anytime.”

Esca stretches again, and Marcus watches as he pushes his hips down against the bed, once, twice, and then Esca notices Marcus's gaze and he winks. “Apparently my cock just realized you're here.”

Marcus's own cock immediately begins swelling with interest, but he hesitates as he reaches for Esca. “Can I?”

“I swear, Marcus, if you ask that again--” Esca laughs, turning onto his back, “you know you can, and I really fucking want you to, but not right now – we have to get up.”

“Why?” Marcus asks, reluctantly pulling his hand away. “What time is it?”

“Almost 8:00.”

_Damn it._

Marcus leans over the mattress, retrieving his jeans from the floor, “I have to call Lutorius and tell him I'll be late.”

Esca watches as Marcus pulls his phone out of his pocket. “Hey, wait,” he says suddenly, and gives Marcus a sheepish look, “can you call in sick?” 

Marcus pauses. “Do you want me to?”

“Yeah, I will too.”

“Are you serious?”

“Well, yeah,” Esca says and a hint of disappointment shows on his face, “but you don't have to.”

“No, no,” Marcus replies, smiling, and he leans forward and kisses Esca, “I will.”

 

They decide that Marcus will call in sick, and Esca will skip class for once, and he'll call the club and say he won't be in, and Esca is beaming from ear to ear as he hops out of bed and heads to the bathroom while Marcus calls Lutorius.

*

Esca's hips are moving, swaying in front of Marcus, and Marcus does his best to resist rubbing himself through his jeans. Esca's wearing the red briefs with the white band, and Marcus smiles as he thinks back to the night when Esca changed into them specifically for him.

 

The lap dance was Esca's idea. Marcus had cooked breakfast, and Esca kept pushing Marcus up against the counter and palming him through his jeans until they were interrupted by two of Esca's roommates who weren't overly friendly but were more than happy to eat Marcus's food, and then Esca was laughing and packing a bag and suggesting they go to Marcus's place. Marcus isn't quite sure how they made it to his car, but he remembers Esca's hand rubbing against his cock as he tried to stay within the speed limit. He's not even sure what time it was when they reached his apartment, he only knows that Esca was suddenly tugging his shirt off and telling him to turn on some music – “anything with a pulsing beat” – and kissing Marcus and pushing him down into a chair before stripping off his own clothes.

 

“Red,” Marcus manages to pant out, and Esca smiles at him.

Esca leans over, pressing his chest to Marcus's, and he juts his tongue out to lick Marcus's lips, teasing, coaxing Marcus's mouth open. He skips the bending over and the kneeling and all the other typical moves –seemingly just as anxious to get onto Marcus's lap as Marcus is to have him there. Esca slides onto Marcus, knees on either side of him, and he's teasing – pushing his ass against Marcus's groin, and Marcus thrusts up because he wants to and he can this time.

“They're mine,” Esca says, and Marcus can only give a little head shake because he doesn't understand the implication.

“The red ones, they're mine,” Esca repeats, whispering against Marcus's ear. “We don't wear our own clothes when we dance, but I wore these ones for you that night.”

“Why?” Marcus groans, running his fingers along the white waistband and giving it a little snap.

Esca shrugs, with a slow grind of his hips, “I don't know, I just wanted to, because it was you.”

“You didn't know me,” Marcus whispers, and Esca's nodding against him.

“Yeah,” and there's a long pause as Esca gives two slow thrusts against him, rutting his clothed cock against Marcus's stomach, “but I wanted to.”

Somewhere in the haze of lust Marcus smiles and speaks, “you liked me,” and he knows Esca's laughing and saying “yeah,” and Marcus slips his fingers along the edges of the fabric, trailing along the sensitive skin between Esca's thigh and his cock.

He hears Esca's breath hitch, so he moves his fingers lower, teasing along the line of fabric where Esca's ass is peeking out, and the skin is so soft and perfectly rounded that Marcus has to fight the urge to flip Esca over and lick along his smooth pale skin. Instead, he palms Esca's ass, spreading his cheeks as he pulls him closer, and then Marcus is lifting the red fabric with his thumb and slipping his fingers under.

Esca's still moving, trying to keep his rhythm as he thrusts against Marcus, and Marcus traces the line between Esca's cheeks, searching for the tight heat he knows is there – the spot he's wanted to touch since that first night – and when he finds it Esca stills against him and lets out a soft groan as Marcus presses a finger to his hole. Marcus traces circles over the spot and then pulls his fingers up to his mouth to slick them with spit before he's teasing Esca, tracing along the soft skin and pushing flat against him with his fingertips, and sliding his slicked fingers between Esca's cheeks from his balls to his tail bone and back again.

“Marcus,” Esca's voice is a moaned whisper against his ear, and somehow he's still managing to sway his hips to the music, “I want you to fuck me.”

Suddenly Marcus can't focus on anything because Esca's asking to be fucked, and Marcus is so hard in his jeans, and _oh fuck_ he needs out of them now.

“I need to be naked,” Marcus says, and Esca's smiling and laughing and climbing off his lap so Marcus can unbuckle his jeans and kick them off, freeing his cock – and he swipes his fingers over the head, trying to wipe away the leaking pre-come.

Esca leaves for a moment to retrieve something from his bag, and Marcus's head clears for a second but becomes a haze again when Esca tosses lube and a condom on the table.

“Oh fuck, Esca,” Marcus breathes, because this is really going to happen, and he's reaching for Esca before he's able to strip out of the red briefs. Marcus pulls him back onto his lap, urging him to sit higher this time so Marcus can mouth him through his briefs. His hands grip Esca's ass, and he licks Esca's hard cock through the fabric, sucking and mouthing the head until he can taste the saltiness through the cotton. Esca's head is tilted back, hips thrust out to meet Marcus's mouth, and his fingers tighten their grip on Marcus's hair when Marcus yanks down the fabric and sucks Esca's cock into his mouth – the way he always wanted to at the club.

The music changes, and Esca loses the beat as he thrusts frantically into Marcus's mouth. Marcus is licking and sucking, and teasing Esca's hole with his fingers, and he'd gladly let Esca fuck his mouth all day, but somewhere in the back of his mind he's afraid that Esca might come before he gets to sink his cock into that tight heat. Marcus is just about to say something when Esca speaks.

“Marcus,” Esca says, pulling his cock from between Marcus's lips and pressing his hips down so Marcus's cock bumps against his ass through the red fabric, “fuck me now.”

And Marcus can only nod and watch as Esca climbs off his lap and pulls down the briefs. Esca tosses the condom to him, and by the time Marcus slides it on and slicks himself with lube, Esca's moving with the music again, and he's twisting his hips in front of Marcus and pushing his ass back into Marcus's lap.

Marcus can't take his eyes off Esca's smooth, pale skin, and Marcus reaches forward to grasp his slim hips. He slides two fingers down to rub lube across Esca's hole and then Marcus pulls him back until he's directly over his cock. Esca twists his hips, teasingly, pushing down until the head of Marcus's cock is pressed to his hole, and then he arches his back and sits, taking Marcus in, slowly, inch by inch. He's so tight, and it takes all of Marcus's willpower not to just thrust up and bury himself inside Esca. Marcus waits and watches, holding his breath until finally Esca's ass is flush against his lap and they both let out a contented sigh. Then, instead of pulling up again, Esca's twisting his hips and pushing his ass back, moving around Marcus's cock, and it's so tight and warm that Marcus isn't sure how long he'll be able to last if Esca continues.

He puts his hand on Esca's lower back, and tries to slow his movement, pushing him up a bit and then slowly back down, and Marcus hisses against the tight grip Esca has on his cock. Esca tips his head forward and lets out a breath of air, and then he's lifting his hips, following Marcus's hand and moving up and down over Marcus's cock. It's slow and tight and the only sound in the room is their harsh breathing until Marcus finally gives a slow thrust of his hips and pushes up into Esca, meeting his ass with a soft slap.

“Fuck, Marcus,” he hears Esca breath, and suddenly Marcus wants to see his face and kiss him, and he's pulling Esca up off his lap and turning him around.

“I want to see you,” Marcus says, and Esca can only nod and push his mouth against Marcus's as he climbs back into Marcus's lap. His lips are soft and sweet and he's kissing Marcus so hard, and Marcus can feel himself wanting to speak, wanting to say everything that he's thinking. “I missed you,” he mutters against Esca's mouth. “I was afraid I wouldn't see you again, or be able to touch you. I thought I'd lost you before you were even mine.”

Esca shakes his head and kisses him again, so Marcus kisses him back even harder, sucking at his mouth and curling his tongue around Esca's, and he grips Esca's ass and slowly eases him down, pushing his cock up to meet that tight hole and burying himself as deep as he can go. Marcus gives a soft push against Esca's hips, and Esca seems to regain his rhythm and rides Marcus' lap, pushing his ass back and twisting his hips around Marcus's cock. Marcus cups the smooth skin of Esca's ass with one hand, and uses the other to tug Esca's cock as it juts up between them, and he swipes his tongue across Esca's nipples, and brings his mouth to Esca's neck to kiss and lick and breath in the scent of him as Esca writhes in his lap.

Esca's voice is soft against his ear “Marcus” and Marcus is pulling back and looking up into Esca's face and his pupils are blown wide, and his lips are red and kiss-swollen and he looks absolutely debauched and beautiful and Marcus has to resist the urge to say it out loud, so he just leans up and kisses Esca again.

“Marcus,” Esca sighs against his lips.

Esca holds his face and kisses him, tonguing at his mouth as he pants Marcus's name and he rides Marcus faster, lifting his hips and pushing down and rutting against him. Marcus can feel the tension building as Esca tightens around him, and he's sure he's going to come. Marcus tries to hold off as he kisses Esca and pushes his cock up to meet Esca's thrusts, and suddenly Esca is letting out a soft _ahh_ against his mouth and whispering Marcus's name again, and clenching around his cock and spilling himself over Marcus's fingers.

There's a small pause as Esca lowers his head and lets out a panting breath. Then he's kissing Marcus and moving again – riding him harder, rutting against him as if he's trying to draw his orgasm out of him – and Marcus can only watch as Esca rides him, and his cock aches with want and need and pressure, and Marcus is on the brink as Esca presses his mouth to his ear.

“Am I yours?”

And Marcus's mind goes blank, and his vision goes white, and somehow he manages to breathe out _yes_ as his hands grip Esca's hips, holding him tight, and he shoots deep inside Esca. He's still for a moment before giving a few weak thrusts, forcing the last of his orgasm out, and then Esca's kissing him until his head falls back against the chair, and Esca lies slack against his chest.

 

They eventually find their way to Marcus's bed, and there's soft laughter and lots of talk about why the hell they took so long to do that, and Esca laughs at himself because he lost the rhythm, and Marcus offers to make dinner later and Esca says they should go out somewhere, and the lazy conversation continues until they both drift off.

 

Marcus isn't sure what time it is when he wakes up, but he knows he's alone. Mild panic hums through him, and he glances at the clock.

_2:37pm._

He sits up in bed, listening. He hears nothing, and he's suddenly wishing they'd stripped in his bedroom earlier because at least then he'd have some indication of whether or not Esca's still there, or if he dressed and just--

Marcus gets out of bed, and moves slowly towards the door. He's really not sure he wants to go through the disappointment again, and he's just about to call out _“Esca?”_ when Esca rounds the corner and nearly slams into him.

“Jesus, Marcus,” Esca shouts with a laugh. He's got a mug in each hand and the left one sloshes onto the floor as he gives Marcus an amused glare. “You scared the piss out of me.”

“Sorry,” Marcus says sheepishly, “I thought you were gone.”

“Nah, I was making coffee.” He hands Marcus a mug and nods towards the bed. “Thought I'd wake you up with it.”

“What's in yours?” Marcus asks, taking a sip of the coffee and closing his eyes for a second because it tastes _fucking delicious_.

“Tea, of course,” Esca replies, stepping past Marcus and climbing into bed while carefully balancing the mug in his hand. Marcus is still standing by the door, and Esca glances up at him.

“Marcus,” he says with a smile, “I'm still here. Now come back to bed.”

And Marcus does.

**Author's Note:**

> A short sequel - [An Ordinary Day](http://archiveofourown.org/works/329276)  
> And the finale for this verse - [I Think I Wanna Marry You](http://archiveofourown.org/works/329275)


End file.
